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LIBRA.RY 

OF  THE 

University  of  California. 


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ELOCUTION  ^^^^ 

FOR 


ADVANCED    PUPILS 


A  PRACTICAL  TREATISE 


BY 


JOHN   MURRAY, 

Professor  of  Elocution ,  etc.  ^  cti  v^^f*^'^^^^ 


Elorution.    The  power  of  expression  by  words ;  expression  of  thought 
by  speech.    [Rare.]  "  Webster. 


NEW  YORK  &  LONDON 
G.    P.    PUTNAM'S    SONS 

1888 


-k^{ 


r 


COPYRIGHT   BV 

G.    P.    PUTNAM'S    SONS 
1887 


Press  of 
P.  Putnam's  Sons 
New  York 


MS 


DEDICATION  WAS  INTENDED  TO  THE 
SCHOLARLY    CRITIC    WHO    AT    ONE    TIME    FILLED,  AND    FOR  EIGHT 
YEARS,  THE  CHAIR  OF  ENGLISH  LITERATURE  IN  THE  UNIVER- 
SITY   OF    CALIFORNIA.      PERMISSION    WAS    ASKED    AND 
GIVEN,    BUT  NOW  THE  WRITER  OF  THIS  LITTLE 
BOOK     IS    COMPELLED,     WITH     SADDENED 
FEELINGS,   TO   INSCRIBE   IT  TO  THE 
MEMORY  OF 

EDWARD  ROWLAND  SILL. 


224694 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/elocutionforadvaOOmurrrich 


PREFACE. 


In  the  opening  chapter  of  this  book  there  are  a 
few  observations  which  have  already  appeared  in 
print.  They  are  reproduced  because  their  possible 
value  may  be  increased  by  connection  with  these 
hints  ;  and  the  whole  is  submitted  as  a  novel  treat- 
ment of  the  subject  of  elocution,  and  one  that  is 
specially  designed  for  mechanically  good  but  inar- 
tistic readers. 

Santa  Barbara,  California, 


CONTENTS. 


Chap.  I. — The  meaning  of  elocution  :  mischief  resulting  from  dif- 
fering interpretations  of  the  word  :  text-books  too  full  of  inflexible 
rules,  and  thereby  sacrificing  individuality. 


Chap.  II. — Vocal  culture:  instruction  in  singing  lessons  by  the 
Italian  method,  recommended  in  place  of  the  usual  tedious  elocu- 
tionary exercises. 

Chap.  III. — The  Parenthesis :  ignorance  of  its  meaning  and  scope 
a  fruitful  cause  of  monotony. 

Chap.  IV. — Certain  forms  of  monotony :  showing  how  the  pupil 
may  display  a  vast  deal  of  modulation,  and  still  have  a  pet  monot- 
ony of  his  own. 


Chap.  V. — Punctuation :  the  difficulties  which  mechanically  cor- 
rect but  inartistic  readers  experience  from  the  complications  caused 
by  the  various  methods  of  punctuation :  necessity  of  making  the 
rhetorical  punctuation  override  the  grammatical. 


Chap.  VI. — Accent.  Emphasis.  The  great  value  of  the  Cir- 
cumflex, as  illustrated  by  passages  from  Shakespeare.  A  study  of 
Portia  in  the  trial  scene  of  the  Merchant  of  Venice. 


Chap.  VII. — How  to  read  poetry. 

7 


8  CONTENTS. 

Chap.  VIII. — Application  of  the  various  hints,  and  summary  of 
the  principles.  Selections  from  Thanatopsis.  Whittier's  Barclay  of 
Ury.    Browning's  Herve  Riel. 


Chap.  IX. — Suggestions  of  harmony  in  the   English   Language, 
with  remarks  upon  American  nasality. 


Chap.  X. — Commencement  Oratory. 


Chap.  XI. — Application  of  these  hints  to  a  selection  from  Dr. 
Arnold's  plea  for  a  classical  education :  also  to  Austin  Dobson's 
*' Before  the  Curtain,"  and  Mrs.  Browning's  "The  Forced  Recruit. " 


Chap.  XII. — Concluding    Remarks ;  and   a  reminiscence  of  Mrs. 
Kemble's  reading  of  Julius  Caesar  in  the  city  of  Rome. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  MEANING  OF  THE  WORD  ELOCUTION. 

To  make  proper  use  of  words  and  phrases  we 
must  know  their  history ; — their  derivation  and 
scope.  All  reasoning  and  argument  go  for  nothing 
unless  there  is  a  clear  mutual  understanding  with 
regard  to  these  points. 

I  know  of  no  word  in  the  English  Language  that 
has  been  so  misunderstood,  and  the  misunderstand- 
ing of  which  has  worked  such  mischief,  as  the  word 
Elocution. 

The  dictionaries  give  a  series  of  meanings,  and 
then  polite  usage  steps  in  very  impolitely,  and  sets 
everybody  adrift  with  its  own  interpretation.  We 
do  not  care  so  much  about  etymology,  if  usage 
were  always  right ;  but  in  this  particular  case  the 
result  is  a  most  injurious  belief  that  elocution  has 
to  deal  with  public  speech  only  ;  that  it  has  no  bear- 
ing upon  colloquial  intercourse. 

I  will  quote  from  Webster,  who  does  not  differ 
essentially  from  other  lexicographers  as  to  the 
word  in  question.     "  Elocution,  Lat.  elocutio,  from 

9 


lO  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

eloqui,  to  speak  out,  express,  declare,  from  e  out, 
and  loqui,  to  speak." 

The  first  meaning  he  gives,  and  he  properly  calls 
it  **  rare,"  is,  "  The  power  of  expression  by  words  ; 
expression  of  thought  by  speech." 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  he  must  call  it  *'rare," 
for  this  really  complete  meaning  of  the  word  is  sel- 
dom thought  of. 

2d.  "  The  mode  of  utterance  or  delivery,  accom- 
panied with  gesture,  of  anything  spoken,  especially 
of  a  public  or  elaborate  discourse  or  argument." 

To  say  nothing  of  the  fact  that  a  man  can  indulge 
in  modes  of  utterance  without  gesture,  usage  has 
changed  the  word  **  especially  "  to  "invariably," — 
as  regards  public  discourse. 

3d.  "  Power  of  expression  or  diction  in  written 
discourse  ;  suitable  and  impressive  writing  or  style  ; 
eloquence." 

Certainly  congratulations  are  now  in  order  be- 
cause this  third  meaning  is  pronounced  "  obsolete." 
The  word  has  properly  nothing  to  do  with  written 
discourse  ;  and  let  me  hint,  also,  that  one  can  have 
a  good  elocution  and  be  far  from  eloquent. 

The  word  Rhetoric,  from  the  Greek,  might  have 
given  us  more  trouble  than  fortunately  it  has  done. 

Locke,  following  ancient  application,  called  it 
"  The   science  of  oratory  "  ;  but  usage  has  settled 


MEANING    OF   THE  WORD   ELOCUTION.  II 

that  it  is  the  art  of  elegant  and  accurate  composi- 
tion in  prose — written  or  spoken. 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  when  the  Rhetor, 
or  public  speaker,  flourished,  everybody  spoke  and 
few  wrote. 

In  one  of  the  Spectator's  delightful  papers  the 
writer  says,  "  We  learn  that  women  are  possessed 
of  some  springs  of  Rhetoric  which  men  want,  such 
as  tears,  fainting  fits  and  the  like,  which  I  have 
seen  employed  upon  occasion  with  good  success." 
Polite  usage  has  never  dared  to  disturb  those 
springs,  at  least,  but  it  has  muddled  the  waters  of 
common  sense  so  thoroughly  that  the  boys  and 
girls  of  this  age  are  convinced  that  elocution  has 
nothing  whatever  to  do  with  every  day  speech,  but 
only  with  that  of  the  platform.  To  be  elocutionary 
they  must  step  out  of  themselves,  forsooth ;  they 
must  declaim  after  a  foreign  pattern  ;  they  must 
imitate  a  fancied  superior  model ;  they  must  sink 
their  own  individuality. 

It  would  be  well  if  the  word  Elocution  could  be 
blotted  from  the  dictionaries.  Not  but  that  it  is 
the  proper  word,  but  because  it  is  so  persist- 
ently misunderstood.  And  if  the  art  of  utterance 
were  a  current  phrase  instead  of  the  art  of  elocu- 
tion, we  should  come  to  a  better  understanding. 
There  is  warrant  for  such  a  change  in  the   Bible,  in 


12  ELOCUTIONARY   HINTS. 

Milton  and  in  other  classics.  However,  we  shall  un- 
derstand each  other  if  we  agree  that  the  word  elo- 
cution means  vocal  delivery,  or,  if  you  please,  noth- 
ing more  or  less  than  speech.  Then,  perhaps,  we 
may  further  agree  that  he  who  has  learned  to  speak 
well  in  private,  by  just  so  much  is  prepared  to 
speak  well  in  public;  that  he  who  is  a  good  orator 
is  all  the  more  capable  of  talking  properly  to  his 
fellows  in  every-day  life ;  that  success  in  both  these 
lines  will  help  him  in  another  direction,  namely, 
to  read  aloud  satisfactorily ;  that  improvement  in 
one  branch  implies  improvement  in  another ;  that 
neglect  of  either  is,  in  some  sort,  neglect  of  all. 

He  is  a  good  elocutionist,  then,  who  has  correct 
delivery  upon  every  possible  occasion  ; — be  it  in  the 
ordinary  conversation  with  his  fellows  or  in  the  ora- 
tion to  a  multitude.  And  here  it  may  be  proper  to 
say,  and  with  a  good  deal  of  significance,  that  at  one 
period  of  English  history  it  was  a  common  thing  to 
speak  of  a  man's  every-day  speech  as  his  elocution. 

If  there  is  any  one  branch  of  the  art  more  deserv- 
ing of  cultivation  than  another  it  is  colloquial 
speech ;  because  only  the  few,  by  comparison,  are 
called  upon  to  address  the  public.  The  most  im- 
portant lessons  are  the  earliest, — falling  from  the 
mother's  lips.  Blessed  be  the  Kindergarten  that 
may  follow  ! 


THE  MEANING  OF  THE  WORD   ELOCUTION.      1 3 

The  branch  next  in  importance,  and  far  more  es- 
sential than  what  pertains  to  public  speech,  is  that 
of  reading  aloud.  Again  the  pupil  may  be  drifting 
in  a  sea  of  misapprehension  about  the  phrase  "  read- 
ing naturally."  Having  been  told  that  in  order  to 
read  properly  he  need  but  read  naturally,  he  jumps 
to  the  conclusion  that  art  is  unnecessary,  and  study 
sure  to  result  in  artificiality.  Certainly  it  is  not 
natural  for  a  person  to  read  aloud  the  thoughts  of 
another  as  if  they  were  his  own.  Therefore  there 
must  be  persistent  study  of  an  art  which  partakes 
somewhat  of  the  art  of  the  actor.  Indeed,  he  only 
is  a  natural  reader,  as  the  adjective  is  thus  applied, 
who  has  become  such  a  master  of  the  art  as  to  hide 
it  effectually  from  the  listener.  When  Shakespeare 
tells  us  to  "hold  the  mirror  up  to  nature,"  he  ac- 
companies the  direction  with  certain  instructions ; 
and  if  we  do  not  hold  it  properly  the  scorn  of  the 
teacher  has  no  stint.  Among  these  instructions, 
far-reaching  but  few  in  number,  mark  this: — *'Let 
your  own  discretion  be  your  tutor." 

If  this  is  to  be  our  tutor,  there  is  small  need,  very 
small  indeed,  for  teachers  of  elocution  to  drill  us 
with  multitudinous  and  inflexible  rules.  The  rules 
are  to  be  made  by  ourselves, — all  but  the  most 
elementary, — and  in  framing  them,  we  should  be 
keen  to  observe  the  faults  of  others,  the  more  read- 


14  ELOCUTIONARY    HINTS. 

ily  to  detect  our  own ;  and  we  should  be  constantly- 
taking  valuable  hints  from  every  sort  of  public 
speaker  or  reader  who  stands  high  in  general  estima- 
tion. Indeed  no  pupil  attains  to  excellence  who 
does  not  rapidly  cut  loose  from  the  teacher,  and  as- 
sert his  own  individuality.  The  teacher's  office  is  to 
suggest  and  inspire  ;  not  to  create  a  mob  of  imita- 
tors. 

I  have  classed  reading  aloud  as  a  branch  of  the 
art  second  in  importance.  Surely  this  is  no  trivial 
accomplishment  if  it  brings  us  into  closer  compan- 
ionship with  the  wit  and  the  wisdom  and  the  poetry 
of  our  literature.  Those  intellectual  creations  which 
we  never  tire  of  beholding  in  the  cold  and  formal 
type  are  made  still  more  familiar,  and  their  creators 
appear  like  living,  breathing,  speaking  friends, 
through  the  sympathetic  modulations  of  the  culti- 
vated voice. 

Even  Shakespeare  himself  may  be  clearer  in  his 
teachings  at  the  fire-side  of  home  than  he  is  ever 
allowed  to  be  in  the  dramatic  temple.  The  stage 
is  a  perpetual  disappointment  because  the  principal 
characters  only  are  properly  cast.  We  are  per- 
mitted to  gaze  upon  Hamlet,  but  when  do  we  see 
Marcellus  and  Bernardo?  We  have  Rosalinds  by 
the  score,  but  never  a  single  Phebe.  Shylock,  Por- 
tia, Bassanio,  Gratiano  and  Antonio  must  be  satis- 


THE  MEANING  OF  THE  WORD  ELOCUTION.      1 5 

factorily  portrayed,  for  the  main  plot  requires  it ; 
but  as  Shakespeare  had  a  way,  occasionally,  of  put- 
ting his  choicest  expressions  into  the  mouths  of 
subordinate  characters,  we  are  justly  annoyed  if  the 
part  of  Lorenzo  is  given  to  a  vulgar  and  illiterate 
actor.  In  that  charming  love-scene  what  does  Lor- 
enzo say  to  Jessica,  as  he  talks  of  the  harmony  of 
the  spheres  ? 

**  Such  harmony  is  in  immortal  souls: — 
But,  whilst  this  muddy  vesture  of  decay 
Doth  grossly  close  it  in,  we  cannot  hear  it. " 

The  stage  has  another  diflficulty  to  grapple  with. 
Suppose  the  play  to  be  Hamlet.  Imagination  re- 
ceives a  shock  if  we  are  asked  to  see  the  ghost,  as 
well  as  hear  it.  **  The  majesty  of  buried  Denmark  " 
tricked  out  by  the  theatre  is  hardly  capable  of  *'  dis- 
tilling the  observer  with  any  other  sensation  than 
that  of  the  ludicrous."  And  Prospero's  Ariel !  a 
spirit  ''  too  delicate  to  act  the  earthly  and  abhorred 
commands  of  Sycorax,"  but  powerful  enough  to 
destroy  the  vessels,  disperse  the  royal  freight,  restore 
the  senses  of  those  he  had  first  made  mad,  and  in 
the  end  to  reconstruct  the  ship  **  as  tight  and  yare 
as  when  it  first  put  out  to  sea,"  shall  this  **  fine  ap- 
parition "  be  embodied  ? 

And  so  I  contend  that  even  Shakespeare  may  be 


l6  ELOCUTIONARY   HINTS. 

better  understood  and  more  thoroughly  enjoyed  in 
the  domestic  circle,  or  in  the  intelligent  studious 
group  of  friends,  than  he  can  ever  be  upon  the 
stage ; — certainly  under  its  present  conditions. 
But  in  essaying  this  highest  form  of  reading,  the 
dramatic,  previous  cultivation  of  the  vocal  powers 
is  all  the  more  necessary  to  obtain  absolute  control 
of  modulation  ;  without  which  the  finest  intellect- 
ual perception  of  Shakespeare's  meaning  must  fail 
of  due  expression. 

If  dramatic  readers  are  "natural,"  it  must  be  from 
intense  study  of  so  much  of  the  art  of  elocution  as 
lies  within  their  power ;  and  the  study  should  be  a 
process  of  individual  development,  for  which  they 
themselves  must  be  responsible. 

I  cannot  but  think  that  there  are  fewer  good 
readers  in  the  domestic  circle  now-a-days  than  was 
the  case  but  fifty  years  ago.  A  multiplicity  of  stud- 
ies has  crowded  this  one  out.  Ignorant  and  sensa- 
tional teachers  are  in  part  to  blame.  The  positive- 
ness  of  elocutionary  text-books,  allowing  no  play  to 
individuality,  is  another  detriment.  The  cumbrous 
machinery  has  produced  mechanical  readers.  For 
all  the  chapter  after  chapter  upon  Stress,  radical, 
medium,  vanishing  and  compound ;  for  all  the  in- 
culcation of  the  Orotund,  effusive  and  explosive  ; 
for  all  the  distinction  of  Slides,  third,  fourth,  fifth 


THE   MEANING  OF  THE   WORD   ELOCUTION.      1/ 

and  octave  ;  for  all  this  and  other  analysis,  however 
correct  as  analysis,  the  stubborn  fact  remains  that 
our  boys  and  girls  do  not  read  as  well  as  their 
fathers  and  mothers  did. 

Nor  do  I  make  these  statements  without  good 
authority.  Lindley  Murray,  the  grammarian,  who 
compiled  a  once  popular  series,  called  The  Intro- 
duction, The  English  Reader,  and  the  Sequel,  said 
in  words  nearly  such  as  follow,  "  To  give  good  rules 
for  the  management  of  the  voice  in  reading,  by 
which  all  the  necessary  pauses,  emphasis  and  tones 
may  be  put  in  practice,  is  not  possible."  The  rhet- 
oricians  Blair  and  Whately  declare  that  "  accumula- 
tions of  rules  are  unprofitable  and  delusive ; "  and 
''that  the  cases  wherein  the  rules  hold  good  are 
often  less  numerous  than  the  exceptions." 

A  little  reading  between  the  lines  shows  us  that 
these  writers  are  not  condemning  rule,  but  only  the 
forcing  of  an  accumulation  of  rules  upon  all  persons 
alike.  Teachers  of  Elocution  and  their  text-books 
may  be  too  absolute.  It  seems  to  me  that  no  two 
persons  should  be  compelled  to  read  the  simplest 
sentence  in  precisely  the  same  manner.  Take,  for 
example,  the  opening  lines  of  Hamlet's  address, — 
"  Speak  the  speech,  I  pray  you,  as  I  pronounced  it  to 
you,  trippingly  on  the  tongue  ;  but  if  you  mouth  it, 
as  many  of  our  players  do,  I  had  as  lief  the  town- 


1 8  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

crier  spoke  my  lines,"  and  try  how  many  variations  of 
tone  and  pause  and  emphasis  and  time  can  be  used 
without  altering  the  unmistakable  sense.  These  va- 
riations are  subject  to  the  reader's  idiosyncrasy,  to 
his  interpretation  of  the  character  of  Hamlet,  to  his 
view  of  the  condition  of  Hamlet  in  that  particular 
scene ;  and  to  numberless  other  conditions  be- 
longing to  the  time  and  place  of  delivery, — such 
as  the  size  and  character  of  the  reader's  audience, 
and  the  very  shape  and  dimensions  of  the  room.  If 
my  reasoning  is  good,  every  individual,  to  attain  ex- 
cellence, must  discover  for  himself  most  of  the  rules 
which  should  govern  him.  The  simplest  rudimen- 
tary instruction  only  is  to  be  enforced  by  another ; 
and  so  it  is  that  in  this  little  book  I  lay  down  no 
rules,  but  only  hints, — to  be  taken  wholly  or  in  part, 
or  to  be  rejected  entirely,  as  the  reader  may  decide. 
Let  us  glance  at  the  meanings  of  certain  words 
which  belong  more  or  less  to  the  subject ; — meanings 
so  contradictory  as  to  create  misunderstanding  of  the 
subject  itself.  Declamation  is  public  speaking ;  but 
sometimes  the  word  means  pretentious  display. 
Pronunciation  once  signified  the  enunciation  of  a 
discourse  ;  now  it  usually  refers  to  the  correct  or  in- 
correct utterance  of  the  words.  The  Grecian  orator 
insisted  upon  "  action  **  first  and  last.  By  action  we 
understand  gesture,  but  undoubtedly  he  meant  gest- 


THE  MEANING  OF  THE  WORD  ELOCUTION.      19 

ure  and  speech  combined  and  perfected.  At  certain 
periods  elocution  and  eloquence  were  synonymous 
terms ; — now  they  are  absolutely  distinct.  By  the 
teachings  of  Aristotle  and  Quintilian  rhetoric  was 
the  theory  of  oratory ;  in  this  age  of  print,  rhetoric 
bears  as  much  relation  to  written  composition  as  to 
spoken.  The  most  valued  ancient  systems  construed 
elocution  as  having  reference  to  the  writer  and  not 
to  the  speaker, — to  the  written  composition  and  not 
to  its  delivery.  Such  an  application  is  now  un- 
known. 

If  the  broad  meaning  of  elocution  advanced  in 
these  pages  can  be  sustained,  two  advantages  may 
be  gained  :  a  more  general  and  thorough  cultivation 
of  our  native  accents,  and  a  decrease  of  artificiality 
in  public  discourse. 


CHAPTER  II. 

VOCAL   CULTURE. 

For  the  development  of  the  voice  and  improve- 
ment in  articulation,  Dr.  Rush's  admirable  philoso- 
phy has  been  drawn  upon  so  liberally  and  diffusely 
by  compilers  of  elocutionary  text-books  that  these 
works  are  filled  with  interminable  lists  of  vowel  and 
consonant  sounds  and  difficult  syllabic  combinations. 
Thus  the  pupil  is  bored  beyond  expression,  and  ac- 
quires a  reasonable  prejudice  against  the  study  in 
toto.  I  submit  boldly,  but  with  all  deference  to  the 
opinion  of  others  who  have  taught  elocution 
earnestly  and  conscientiously,  that  this  training  can 
be  far  more  effectively  provided  by  lessons  in  vocal 
music. 

There  is  no  better  way  of  overcoming  constitu- 
tional or  acquired  defects  of  articulation,  for  pro- 
ducing a  sonorous  clear  tone,  and  for  acquiring  a 
correct  habit  of  breathing,  than  a  course  of  singing 
lessons ; — provided  these  lessons  are  taught  by  the 
Italian  method.  The  whole  musical  world  concedes 
that  this  is  the  proper  school.     The  voices  which 

20 


VOCAL  CULTURE.  21 

it  builds  up  seem  to  weaken  only  with  the  decay  of 
all  the  faculties.  Even  the  tenor,  whose  organs  are 
the  most  delicate,  sings  with  the  freshness  nearly  of 
youth  when  he  is  feeble  from  advancing  age.  On 
the  operatic  stage  Rubini  was  a  notable  example, 
Mario  another,  Salvi,  too  (whose  Edgardo  is  to  be 
remembered  just  as  powerful  and  sweet  in  his  six- 
tieth year  as  in  his  youth),  and  later  still,  Brignoli. 
All  this,  not  merely  because  these  singers  were  born 
with  exceptional  gifts,  but  because  the  Italians  have 
discovered  how  to  produce  the  chest-tones,  as  they 
are  called,  and  without  taxing  the  throat  unneces- 
sarily. 

All  public  speakers  would  benefit  by  a  partial 
training  of  this  character.  "  Clergyman's  sore 
throat "  would  disappear  under  the  treatment. 
Every  advantage  claimed  by  the  compilers  of  elocu- 
tionary text-books  in  the  way  of  strengthening  and 
improving  the  voice  is  ensured  by  the  Italian  method 
of  singing, — if  it  can  be  ensured  at  all. 

However  complete  the  apparatus  of  the  gymna- 
sium connected  with  a  college,  the  gymnasium  is 
never  a  favorite  resort  with  the  many ;  but  where- 
ever  you  see  calisthenics  aided  by  music  you  see 
hearty  and  wholesome  enjoyment.  For  the  same 
reason,  singing  lessons  substituted  for  vocal  culture 
(the  term  used  for  voice-development  in  elocution- 


22  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

ary  lessons)  would  answer  all  ordinary  purposes,  and 
be  an  agreeable  and  enticing  exercise.  Such  an  ex- 
ercise may  not  be  carried  any  further  than  to  suit 
the  individual  case,  and  simply  to  serve  in  the 
place  of  the  mechanical  and  monotonous  systems  in 
vogue  ; — systems  which  the  girls  declare  "  horrid," 
the  boys  detest,  and  all  of  them  laugh  at,  and  sneer 
at,  and  avoid  if  possible. 

How  can  you  get  more  difficult  syllabic  combina- 
tions together  than  are  embraced  in  the  ordinary 
English  ballad  ?  A  correct  singing  method  will 
overcome  those  difficulties.  To  master  pronuncia- 
tion in  singing  is  a  far  more  difficult  feat  than  to 
master  it  in  speaking,  and  the  former  more  than  in- 
cludes the  latter. 

I  need  not  urge  the  importance  of  such  vocal 
lessons  being  taken  early  in  life  when  the  organs 
are  pliable. 

Does  not  the  kindergarten  system,  with  its  songs 
and  gestures,  its  harmonious  development  of  mind 
and  body,  and  its  underlying  principle  of  work 
always  enjoyment y  hint  at  the  advisability  of  the 
change  I  am  advocating? 

It  may  be  urged  that  we  are  not  all  of  us  born 
with  so-called  musical  ears ;  or  that  we  do  not  all  of 
us  wish  to  be  taught  to  sing.  The  reply  is  that 
these  lessons  need  not  extend  any  further  than   is 


VOCAL  CULTURE.  23 

suited  to  the  individual  case,  and  they  are  simply, 
then,  a  substitute  for  the  common  elocutionary 
practice.  Also,  if  the  musical  ear  does  not  exist,  it 
is  merely  a  misfortune ;  and  no  marked  success  as  a 
reader  or  speaker  can  be  expected,  where  nature 
has  been  thus  sparing ;  and  in  such  cases  there  can 
be  no  adequate  response  to  the  rhythmical  utter- 
ances of  poetry.  But  this  misfortune  is  not  really 
so  common  as  may  be  thought,  A  faculty  may  ex- 
ist undeveloped.  When  Elia  tells  us  in  these  words, 
''  I  have  no  ear.  I  have  been  practicing  *  God  save 
the  King  '  all  my  life;  whistling  and  humming  of  it 
over  to  myself  in  solitary  corners ;  and  am  not  yet 
arrived,  they  tell  me,  within  many  quavers  of  it,** 
besides  the  quiet  laugh  which  we  suspect  him  of 
raising  at  his  own  expense,  we  will  take  him  at  his 
word,  and  still  believe  in  an  undeveloped  faculty, 
for  "  water  parted  from  the  sea  "  could  not  be  more 
musical  than  the  periods  of  gentle  Charles. 

This  chapter  may  be  unnecessary  for  advanced 
pupils  who,  it  is  presumed,  have  gone  through  cer- 
tain  ordeals  of  voice-culture.  It  may  be  too  late  for 
the  successful  training  of  such  by  singing  lessons, 
which  should  be  undertaken  at  an  early  age.  In- 
deed, when,  how,  and  where  this  whole  matter  is  to 
be  properly  recognized  in  educat?onal  systems  con- 
stitutes an  unanswered  problem.     Like  the   appari- 


24  ELOCUTIONARY   HINTS. 

tion,  too,  it  will  not  down.  The  first  teacher  is  the 
mother;  and  as  the  child  grows  it  takes  the  speech 
of  the  household, — for  good  or  for  bad.  Here  is 
indicated  a  responsibility  that  parents  cannot  shirk. 
At  some  subsequent  but  still  primary  period, 
when  the  vocal  organs  have  the  pliability  of  youth, 
a  certain  amount  of  instruction  in  song  (by  the 
Italian  method)  should  find  its  place,  so  that  devel- 
opment of  the  voice  will  be  thoroughly  and  pleas- 
ingly attained.  The  best  teachers,  of  all  nationali- 
ties, use  this  method.  The  poor  ones  not  only  mis- 
lead the  pupil,  but  maltreat  the  voice. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  PARENTHESIS. 

It  seems  to  me  that  readers  may  be  tolerably- 
correct,  mechanically  so,  but  yet  far  from  artistic 
or  natural  (as  the  word  goes)  by  not  observing 
closely  the  nature  and  bearing  of  the    Parenthesis. 

The  Imperial  Dictionary  tells  us  that  the  word 
"  Parenthesis  comes  from  the  Greek  Para,  beside, 
and  entithemi,  to  insert.  An  explanatory  or  quali- 
fying sentence,  inserted  into  the  midst  of  another 
sentence,  without  being  grammatically  connected 
with  it.     It  is  generally  marked  by  upright  curves 

(  )  but  frequently  by  dashes and  even  by 

commas." 

This  seems  to  be  a  sufficiently  clear  explanation 
of  the  wide-reaching  subject  hemmed  in  so  diversely  ; 
and  there  never  has  been  any  difficulty  in  showing 
a  pupil  that  in  the  reading  of  what  is  contained  in 
a  parenthesis  proper  (or  one  marked  by  curves 
rather  than  in  any  other  way)  the  voice  should 
generally  be  lowered  in  pitch ; — because  the  matter 
therein  contained  is  something  outside  of  the  main 

25 


26  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

statement ; — not  grammatically  connected  with  it. 
But  it  so  happens  that  this  parenthesis  proper,  once 
so  common,  is  now  seldom  used  ;  and  therefore  the 
eye  of  the  reader  loses  its  reminder  of  the  proper 
change  of  pitch.  The  consequence  is  a  vast  deal  of 
monotony.  Writers  assert  that  the  parenthesis 
weakens  their  statements,  by  interrupting  their 
flow ;  but  as  Charles  Lamb  was  very  fond  of  this 
sort  of  side-issue  we  may  be  permitted  to  doubt  the 
correctness  of  their  conclusion,  begging  leave  to  re- 
mark (very  parenthetically  of  course)  that  a  single 
parenthesis  of  Lamb  is  often  worth  many  chapters 
of  other  essayists.  You  may  say,  if  the  parenthesis 
is  abolished,  why  lower  the  pitch  ?  because  parcntheU 
teal  expressions  occur  in  almost  every  lengthy  sen- 
tence, and  these  demand,  also,  this  variation  of 
tone.  In  colloquial  intercourse  we  observe  such 
variation,  and  to  be  "  natural "  we  must  do  so  in 
reading  aloud. 

Again, — hardly  a  sentence  can  be  framed  which 
does  not  contain  explanatory  clauses  ;  and  the 
very  word  explanatory  suggests  a  change  of  tone, 
and  generally  more  or  less  lowering  of  the  pitch. 

In  the  following  extracts  from  Lamb's  essay  **  A 
bachelor's  complaint  of  the  behavior  of  married 
people,"  I  will  present  in  small  type  such  parts  of 
sentences  as  seem  to  me  to  require,  from  their  paren- 


THE  PARENTHESIS.  2/ 

thetical  nature,  this  lowered  pitch ;  at  the  same  time 

conscious  that  the  principle  only  is  obligatory,  and 

that,  upon  occasion,  I  might  properly  place  some 

of  this  small  type  elsewhere.     Increased  familiarity 

with  a  subject  may  suggest  changes  in  my  reading. 

The   pupil  should  have  the  same  privilege.     This 

change  of  type  is  to  make  him  grasp  the  principle 

only,  and  form  a  correct  habit. 

*'  Nothing  is   to   me   more  distasteful  than  that 

entire   complacency  and    satisfaction   which   beam 

in   the  countenances   of   a  new-married   couple ; — 

in  that  of  the  lady  particularly  :  jt    tells    you,  that  her  lot  is 

disposed  of  in  this  world :  that  you   can   have   no 

hopes  of  her.     It  is  true  I  have  none  ;  nor  wishes  either, 

perhaps;  but    this   is    one    of    those    truths   which 

ought,  as  I  said  before,  to  be  taken  for  granted,  not  ex- 
pressed.        *         *         4f         *         *         ^         * 

"  Innumerable  are  the  ways  which  they  take  to  in- 
sult and  worm  you  out  of  their  husband's  confidence. 
Laughing  at  all  you  say  with  a  kind  of  wonder,  as  if  you 
were  a  queer  kind  of  fellow,  but  an  oddity,  Jg  one  of 
the  ways ;  they  have  a  particular  kind  of  stare  for 
the  purpose ;  till  at  last  the  husband,  who  used  to  defer 
to  your  judgment,  and  would  pass  over  some  excrescences  of  under- 
standing and  manner  for  the  sake  of  a  general  vein  of  observation 
(not  quite  vulgar)  which  he  perceived  in  you,  begins  to  SUSpect 

whether  you  are  not  altogether  a  humorist, — a  fellow 


28  ELOCUTIONARY   HINTS. 

well  enough  to  have  consorted  with  in  his  bachelor  days,  but  not 
quite  so  proper  to  be  introduced  to  ladies.  This 
may  be  called  the  staring  way  ;  and  is  that  which  has 
oftenest  been  put  in  practice  against  me. 

"  Another  way  (for  the  ways  they  have  to  accom- 
plish so  desirable  a  purpose  are  infinite)  is,  with  a 
kind  of  innocent  simplicity,  continually  to  mistake 
what  it  was  which  first  made  their  husband  fond  of 
you.  If  an  esteem  for  something  excellent  in  your 
moral  character  was  that  which  riveted  the  chain  which  she  is 
to  break,  upon  any  imaginary  discovery  of  a  want  of 
poignancy  in  your  conversation,  she  will  cry,  *  I 
thought,  my  dear,  you  described  your  friend  as  a 
great  wit  ?  *  If  on  the  other  hand,  it  was  for  some 
supposed  charm  in  your  conversation  that  he  first 
grew  to  like  you,  and  was  Content  for  this  to  overlook 
some  trifling  irregularities  in  your  moral  deport- 
ment, upon  the  first  notice  of  any  of  these  she  as 
readily  exclaims,  *  This,  my  dear,  is  your  good 
Mr. !' 

**  One  good  lady  whom  I  took  the  liberty  of  expostulating 
with  for  not  showing  me  quite  so  much  respect  as  I  thought  due  to 

her  husband's  old  friend,  had  the  candor  to  confess  to  me 
that  she  had  often  heard  Mr. speak  of  me  be- 
fore marriage,  and  that  she  had  conceived  a  great 
desire  to  be  acquainted  with  me,  but  that  the  sight 


THE  PARENTHESIS.  29 

of  me  had  very  much  disappointed  her  expecta- 
tions ;  for  from  her  husband's  representations  of 
me,  she  had  formed  a  notion  that  she  was  to  see  a 
fine,  tall,  ofificer-like-looking  man  (I  use  her  very- 
words),  the  very  reverse  of  which  proved  to  be  the 
truth.  This  was  candid ;  and  I  had  the  civility  not  to 
ask  her  in  return,  how  she  came  to  pitch  upon  a 
standard  of  personal  accomplishments  for  her  hus- 
band's friends  which  differed  so  much  from  his 
own ;  for  my  friend's  dimensions  as  near  as  possible 
approximate  to  mine  ;  he  standing  five  feet  five  in 
his  shoes  ^^  which  I  have  the  advantage  of  him  by  about  half  an 
inch;  and  he  no  more  than  myself  exhibiting  any 
indications  of  a  martial  character  in  his  air  or  counte- 
nance." Using  an  emphatic  circumflex  intonation 
for  the  word  "  martial,"  and  making  a  slight  pause 
after  the  word  "  character,*'  seem  to  suggest  a  de- 
cided lowering  of  the  pitch  on  the  words  "  in  his  air 
or  countenance." 

For  the  same  illustration  of  what  parenthetical 
expressions  call  for,  let  me  distribute  small  type  in 
the  following  extract  from  Washington  Irving's 
"  History  of  New  York."  The  venerable  Diedrich 
says,  "  Professor  Von  Poddingcoft  (or  Puddinghead, 
as  the  name  may  be  rendered  into  English)  was 
long  celebrated  in  the  University  of  Leyden,  for 
profound   gravity  of  deportment,   and  a  talent  for 


30  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

going  to  sleep  in  the  midst  of  examinations ;  to  the 

infinite  relief  of  his  hopeful  students,  who  thereby  worked  their  way 
through  college  with  great  ease  and  little  study.  J^  the  course 
of  one  of  his  lectures,  the  learned  professor,  seizing  a 
bucket  of  water^  swung  it  around  his  head  at  arm's 
length.  The  impulse  with  which  he  threw  the  ves- 
sel from  him  being  a  centrifugal  force^  the  retention  of 
his  arm  operated  as  a  centripetal  power;  and  the 
bucket,  which  was  a  substitute  for  the  earth,  described  a  cir- 
cular orbit  round  about  the  globular  head  and  ruby 
visage  of  Professor  Von  Poddingcoft,  which  formed 
no  bad  representation  of  the  sun. 

*' All  these  particulars  were  duly  explained  to  the 
class  of  gaping  students  around  him.  He  apprised 
them,  moreover,  that  the  same  principle  of  gravita- 
tion, which  retained  the  water  in  the  bucket,  re- 
strains the  ocean  from  flying  from  the  earth  in  its 
rapid  revolutions ;  and  he  further  informed  them 
that  should  the  motion  of  the  earth  be  suddenly 
checked,  it  would  incontinently  fall  into  the  sun, 
through  the  centripetal  force  of  gravitation ;  a  most 
ruinous  event  to  this  planet,  and  one  which  would 
also  obscure,  though  it  most  probably  would  not  extinguish  the 
solar  luminary.  An  unlucky  stripling,  one  of  those  va- 
grant geniuses,  who  seem  sent  into  the  world  merely  to  annoy  worthy 

men  of  the  puddinghead  order,  desirous  of  ascertaining  the 
correctness  of  the  experiment,   suddenly  arrested 


THE   PARENTHESIS.  3 1 

the  arm  of  the  professor,  just  at  the  moment  that 
the  bucket  was  at  its  zenith,  which  immediately  de- 
scended with  astonishing  precision  upon  the  philo- 
sophic head  of  the  instructor  of  youth.  A  hollow 
sound,  and  a  red-hot  hiss  attested  the  contact ;  but 
the  theory  was  in  the  amplest  manner  illustrated, 
for  the  unfortunate  bucket  perished  in  the  conflict ; 
but  the  blazing  countenance  of  Professor  Von  Pod- 
dingcoft  emerged  from  amidst  the  waters,  glowing 
fiercer  than  ever  with  unutterable  indignation ; 
whereby  the  students  were  marvellously  edified,  and  departed  con- 
siderably wiser  than  before." 

To  illustrate  the  same  lowering  of  pitch  for 
parenthetical  considerations,  let  me  use  small  type 
in  portions  of  the  opening  of  Cowper's  Task. 

"  I  sing  the  sofa.      I,  who  lately  sang 
Truth,  Hope,  and  Charity,  and  touched  with  awe, 
The  solemn  chords,  and  with  a  trembling  hand, 
Escaped  with  pain  from  that  adventurous  flight. 

Now  seek  repose  upon  an  humbler  theme ; 
The  theme  though  humble,  yet  august  and  proud 

The  occasion — for  t^^  Fair  commands  the  song." 

Place  the  emphasis  and  circumflex  on  the  word 
**Fair,"  with  a  slight  pause  afterwards,  and  how 
naturally  the  voice  falls  deeper  yet  on  "  commands 
the  song." 

Treating    Longfellow's    opening    verses   of   the 


32  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

"Footsteps   of  the    Angels,"   in    the   same  way 

"  When  the  hours  of  day  are  numbered. 
And  the  voices  of  the  night 
Wake  the  better  soul  that  slumbered 

To  a  holy  calm  delight, 


Ere  the  evening  lamps  are  lighted, 

And,  like  phantoms  grim  and  tall 
Shadows  from  the  fitful  fire-light 
Dance  upon  the  parlor  wall 


Then  the  forms  of  the  departed 
Enter  at  the  open  door, — 

The  beloved  ones,  the  true-hearted, 
Come  to  visit  me  once  more." 


Illustrations  of  this  propriety  of  lowering  the 
pitch  in  parenthetical  cases  can  be  drawn  from 
every  conceivable  variety  of  prose  or  poetry.  Let 
me  offer  one  more  example  which  is  taken  from 
"The  Nation  "of  April  29,  1886,  and  it  is  not 
submitted  merely  for  the  sound  views  expressed, 
but  because  it  is  an  illustration  of  the  point  I  wish 
to  make.  Let  me  remark,  again,  that  my  indica- 
tions are  not  compulsory.  I  would  alter  them  for 
myself  upon  occasion  ;  and  I  can  readily  conceive 
that  another  reader  might  not  lower  the  pitch  in 


THE   PARENTHESIS.  33 

precisely  the  same  places  that  are  marked.  All 
this  is  a  matter  of  taste ;  but  nevertheless  the  habit 
should  be  acquired,  so  that  it  can  assert  itself  even 
in  reading  at  sight. 

*'The  movement  to   make   eight   hours   a   day's 

labor  is  just  now  very  active — indeed,  there  has  been  talk 
of  concerted  action  among  the  Knights  of  Labor  for  its  enforcement 
on  the  first  of  May.  There  is  an  idea  among  some  of 
the  men— very  few,  we  suspect—  that  as  much  work 
would  be  done  in  eight  hours  as  in  ten.  What  ani- 
mates the  bulk  of  the  eight-hour  advocates  is  the 
belief  that  while  less  work  would  be  done  in  eight 
hours  than  in  ten,  the  pay  would  remain  the  same, 
and  employment  would  be  furnished  to  large  num- 
bers who  now  have  nothing  to  do.  We  see  no  ob- 
jection in  the  world  to  the  experiment  being  tried, 
if  it  be  tried  on  the  American  basis  of  individual 
liberty — that  is,  if  individual  choice  be  allowed  to 
determine  in  every  case  whether  a  man  shall  work 
eight  hours  or  ten,  and  the  employer  be  allowed  to 
choose  between  the  eight-hour  men  and  the  ten- 
hour  men.  To  make  it  work  satisfactorily,  however, 
each  man  ought  to  be  paid  by  the  hour,  and  then 
both  classes  could  work  in  the  same  factory  or  shop. 
But  the  important  question  for  the  public  is  how 
the  experiment  is  to  be  tried.  If  it  is  to  be  carried 
out  on  the  compulsory  principle — that  is,  if  the  eight- 
3 


34  ELOCUTIONARY   HINTS. 

hour  men  are  all  to  provide  themselves,  like  savages,  with  stones, 
bricks,  clubs,  and  knives  with  which  to  kill  or  maim  the  ten-hour 
men,  and  if  people  who  employ  ten-hour  men  are  to  be  boycotted 
and  their  premises  infested  by  hooting,  howling  mobs,  and  their 
machinery  damaged,  and    their  butchers  and  bakers  warned  off — 

then  the  American  people  will  make  short  work  of 
it  somehow.'* 


CHAPTER  IV. 

CERTAIN  FORMS  OF  MONOTONY. 

There  may  be  mechanically  good  but  inartistic 
readers  because  of  ignorance  or  thoughtlessness  in 
regard  to  the  important  subject  of  Monotony. 

A  pupil  may  suppose  that  the  mere  derivation  of 
the  word  conveys  instruction  enough  to  him.  He 
learns  from  the  Greek  tongue  that  the  one-tone,  or 
sameness  of  delivery,  is  what  is  meant,  and  he  con- 
siders that  he  has  had  quite  enough  of  monotony 
from  speakers  and  readers  to  deem  it  sufficient 
warning  for  himself.  True, — to  a  certain  extent. 
But  the  pupil  can  display  a  vast  deal  of  modula- 
tion and  still  have  a  pet  monotony  of  his  own.  It 
may  consist  in  the  invariable  beginning  of  every 
sentence  on  the  same  pitch  (so  common,  this  ! ),  or 
it  may  show  itself  only  by  ending  every  sentence 
with  the  same  invariable  fall  of  the  voice.  It  may 
be  revealed  by  the  opening  of  every  sentence  on  a 
high  pitch  and  with  much  power,  and  then  allow- 
ing the  voice  to  fall  gradually  and  to  weaken  so 
much   that  at  the   close   it   is    almost    inaudible. 

35 


3^  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

(Logically,  it  would  be  as  proper  to  begin  the  sen- 
tence with  a  whisper  and  end  it  with  a  shout !) 

A  strange  monotony  this,  but  (somewhat  modi- 
fied,) by  no  means  rare. 

I  know  of  no  more  common  monotony,  and  one 
that,  singularly  enough,  may  exist  where  there  is 
no  other  fault,  than  this  of  beginning  each  succes- 
sive sentence  on  the  same  pitch,  and  that  generally 
a  high  one. 

How  does  the  error  arise?  Possibly  because 
with  every  such  occasion  we  inhale  anew  and  take 
a  fresh  and  vigorous  start,  and,  as  it  would  seem, 
an  irrepressible  one.  However  that  may  be,  we 
have  entire  control  in  colloquial  intercourse  ; — we 
do  not  talk  so. 

It  seems  to  me  that,  in  the  whole  course  of  my 
teaching,  I  never  gave  a  more  valuable  hint  to  pupils 
than  this,  which  I  would  like  the  printer  to  put  in 
the  largest  type  available. 

IN  READING  ALOUD,  FORM  THE 
HABIT  OF  OCCASIONALLY  OPEN- 
ING A  SENTENCE  ON  A  LOW  PITCH. 

From  Collier's  "  History  of  English  Literature,"  I 
copy  the  following  extract,  by  way  of  illustration. 
Let  the  pupil  read  it  aloud,  with  all  the  proper  ex- 
pression, shown  by  modulation  and  emphasis,  that 


CERTAIN  FORMS  OF   MONOTONY.  37 

he  can  command,  but  still  beginning  every  fresh 
sentence  on  the  same  pitch,  and  he  will  recognize 
what  may  possibly  be  his  pet  monotony, — never 
before  discovered  by  him,  but  tolerably  apparent 
to  his  hearers. 

**As  a  writer,  Wycliffe's  great  merit  lies  in  his 
having  given  to  England  the  first  English  version 
of  the  whole  Bible.  There  were  already  existing  a 
few  English  fragments,  such  as  many  of  the  Psalms, 
certain  portions  of  Mark  and  Luke,  and  some  of 
the  Epistles.  But  to  the  mass  of  the  people  the 
Bible  was  a  sealed  book,  locked  up  in  a  dead  and 
foreign  tongue.  Wycliffe  soon  saw  the  incalculable 
value  of  an  English  Bible  in  the  work  of  the  Eng- 
lish Reformation,  and  set  himself  to  the  noble  task 
of  giving  a  boon  so  precious  to  his  native  land. 
No  doubt  he  sought  the  aid  of  other  pens,  but  to 
what  extent  we  cannot  now  determine.  The 
greater  part  of  the  work — perhaps  the  whole — was 
done  during  those  quiet  years  at  Lutterworth,  be- 
tween 1 38 1  and  his  death.  It  is  nearly  certain 
that  he  saw  the  work  finished  before  he  died.  A 
complete  edition  of  Wycliffe's  Bible,  in  five  vol- 
umes, was  issued  in  1850  from  the  Oxford  press." 

Now  let  the  pupil  read  this  selection  with  all  due 
expression  but  beginning,  as  he  may  not  have  done 
hitherto,  certain  sentences  on  a  low  pitch  instead  of 


38  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

the  usual  high  one.  These  sentences  will  be  indicat- 
ed by  the  first  word  having  no  capital  letter :  as  thus, 
**  As  a  writer,  Wycliffe's  great  merit  lies  in  his  hav- 
ing given  to  England  the  first  English  version  of 
the  whole  Bible,  there  were  already  existing  a  few 
English  fragments,  such  as  many  of  the  Psalms, 
certain  portions  of  Mark  and  Luke,  and  some  of 
the  Epistles.  But  to  the  mass  of  the  people  the 
Bible  was  a  sealed  book,  locked  up  in  a  dead  and 
foreign  tongue.  Wycliffe  soon  saw  the  incalcula- 
ble value  of  an  English  Bible  in  the  work  of  the 
English  Reformation,  and  set  himself  to  the  noble 
task  of  giving  a  boon  so  precious  to  his  native  land, 
no  doubt  he  sought  the  aid  of  other  pens,  but  to 
what  extent  we  cannot  now  determine.  The 
greater  part  of  the  work — perhaps  the  whole — was 
done  during  those  quiet  years  at  Lutterworth,  be- 
tween 1 38 1  and  his  death,  a  complete  edition  of 
Wycliffe's  Bible  in  five  volumes,  was  issued  in 
1850  from  the  Oxford  Press." 

In  this,  as  in  any  other  matter  read  aloud,  it  is  an 
exercise  of  the  reader*s  taste  to  determine  when 
such  variation  of  tone  should  occur.  My  indica- 
tions are  simply  suggestions  of  a  principle  to  be 
observed  for  the  sake  of  variety  and  naturalness. 

In  the  reading  of  poetry,  especially  where  there 
are  but  few  lines  in  a  single   verse,  this  peculiar 


CERTAIN  FORMS   OF  MONOTONY.  39 

monotony  is  very  apt  to  appear.  Take  these  famil- 
iar lines  of  one  of  Bryant's  poems.  Reading  them 
in  all  other  respects  with  the  utmost  propriety  of 
expression,  if  you  fail  to  open  a  verse  occasionally 
with  the  variation  suggested,  it  may  constitute  the 
one  thing  which  will  characterize  the  reading  as 
monotonous.  To  form  the  necessary  habit,  try  the 
experiment  of  beginning  certain  verses,  as  are  indi- 
cated by  small  letters,  on  a  lowered  pitch. 

TO  A  WATERFOWL. 

"  Whither,  midst  falling  dew, 

While  glow  the  heavens  with  the  last  steps  of 
day, 
Far,  through  their  rosy  depths,  dost  thou  pursue 
Thy  solitary  way  ? 


Vainly  the  fowler's  eye 

Might  mark  thy  distant  flight  to  do  thee  wrong, 
As,  darkly  painted  on  the  crimson  sky, 

Thy  figure  floats  along. 


seeks't  thou  the  plashy  brink 

Of  weedy  lake,  or  marge  of  river  wide. 
Or  where  the  rocking  billows  rise  and  sink 

On  the  chafed  ocean  side  ? 


40  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

There  is  a  Power  whose  care 

Teaches  thy  way  along  that  pathless  coast, — 
The  desert  and  illimitable  air,— 

Lone  wandering,  but  not  lost. 


All  day  thy  wings  have  fanned. 

At  that  far  height,  the  cold,  thin  atmosphere, 
Yet  stoop  not,  weary,  to  the  welcome  land, 

Though  the  dark  night  is  near. 


and  soon  that  toil  shall  end ; 

Soon  shalt  thou  find  a  summer  home,  and  rest, 
And  scream  among  thy  fellows ;  reeds  shall  bend 

Soon,  o*er  thy  sheltered  nest. 


Thou'rt  gone,  the  abyss  of  heaven 

Hath  swallowed  up  thy  form ;  yet,  on  my  heart 
Deeply  hath  sunk  the  lesson  thou  hast  given, 

And  shall  not  soon  depart. 


He  who,  from  zone  to  zone, 

Guides   through   the    boundless   sky  thy  certain 
flight, 
In  the  lone  way  that  I  must  tread  alone, 

Will  lead  my  steps  aright." 


CERTAIN  FORMS  OF  MONOTONY.  4I 

The  final  verse  might  be  opened  on  this  low 
pitch,  but  for  obvious  reasons  the  capital  letter  is 
used. 

If  you  wish  to  test  in  the  most  positive  way  the 
effect  of  that  peculiar  form  of  monotony  which  be- 
gins every  sentence  on  the  same  unvaried  pitch, 
listen  to  some  one  who  is  reading  thus  in  another 
room,  and  with  closed  doors  between  you  ; — the 
situation  being  just  such  that  you  hear  all  indis- 
tinctly except  the  perpetually  recurring  sound  of 
the  opening  word,  and  if  your  ear  is  at  all  sensitive 
the  pangs  of  Hogarth's  enraged  musician  may  be 
comparable  to  yours.  You  may  be  tempted  to 
transpose  the  words  of  Burns,  and  exclaim, 

Oh  I  wad  some  power  the  giftie  gie  us 
To  hear  oursels  as  others  hear  us ! 


CHAPTER  V. 

PUNCTUATION. 

Very  much  of  the  difficulty  which  mechanically 
correct  readers  experience  in  their  efforts  to  be  ar- 
tistic arises  from  the  curious  complications  brought 
about  by  punctuation.  I  was  about  to  say  the  sys- 
tem of  punctuation,  but  there  is  no  system,  or  rather 
every  writer  has  his  own  system,  and  takes  the  lib- 
erty of  adhering  to  it  as  loosely  as  he  may. 

One  author  is  especially  addicted  to  the  comma, 
another  makes  much  of  the  semicolon,  all  dislike 
the  colon,  and  of  course  all  are  pleased  with  the  full 
stop.  Some  become  desperate  in  the  confusion, 
and  substitute  a  dash  for  everything  between  a 
comma  and  a  period.  The  combat  deepens  when 
the  four  little  points  are  plunged  into  the  heart  of 
elocution.  Here  begins  an  irrepressible  conflict,  for 
we  find  that,  even  if  there  were  a  perfect  system  of 
grammatical  punctuation,  the  rhetorical  would  over- 
come it.  The  complication  would  be  less  serious  if 
we  were  not  compelled  to  see  these  troublesome 
points  upon  the  page,  and  be  continually  obliged  to 

42 


PUNCTUATION.  43 

reject  their  offices  in  reading  aloud.  They  are  wel- 
comed by  logic  and  repudiated  by  rhetoric ;  and 
more  than  this,  a  batallion  of  pauses,  seen  only  by 
the  mind's  eye,  are  necessarily  forced  into  the  con- 
test. 

Not  much  is  known  about  what  stood  for  punct- 
uation among  the  ancients,  and  it  is  believed  that 
they  rejoiced  in  but  little.  Perhaps  they  read  all 
the  better  for  that.  They  were  helped,  at  occasional 
but  ill-defined  historical  stages,  by  accents  and  cer- 
tain lines  in  place  of  stops.  To  one  Aristophanes 
of  Byzantium  (not  the  more  celebrated  one  of 
comic  memory),  the  first  efforts  to  punctuate  are  as- 
cribed. He  flourished  his  pen  about  the  middle  of 
the  third  century  B.  C.  Then  the  Venetian  Manu- 
tius  figures  in  history  as  prominent  in  the  establish- 
ment of  modern  forms,  which  have  gradually  as- 
sumed their  present  complexion  ;  the  colon,  as  we 
read,  appearing  in  the  latter  part  of  the  15th  century, 
the  comma  and  semicolon  in  the  i6th,  and  all  show- 
ing themselves,  along  with  the  mark  of  interroga- 
tion and  parenthesis,  in  the  year  1587,  or  there- 
abouts. 

Some  of  the  ancient  languages,  as  we  well  know, 
were  far  more  grammatically  exact  than  the  one  we 
possess.  Mr.  Richard  Grant  White  went  so  far  as 
to  style  ours  a  **  grammarless  tongue."      All  the 


44  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

more  to  be  admired  then  is  that  compilation  by 
Lindley  Murray  which  made  his  name  a  synonym 
for  English  grammar.  It  was  once  a  common  say- 
ing of  the  English  race  that  if  a  man  spoke  incor- 
rectly he  did  not  speak  according  to  Murray. 
Fuller  endorsement  could  not  be  given  ;  and  it  is 
to  be  supposed  that  as  the  manner  of  speaking,  or 
delivery  of  the  language,  has  undergone  changes 
and  improvements  in  the  course  of  a  century,  we 
need  not  be  surprised  in  finding  certain  views  ex- 
pressed by  Mr.  Murray  about  the  comma,  which 
belonged  to  his  day.  In  treating  of  punctuation 
he  says,  "The  comma  represents  the  shortest 
pause;  the  semicolon  a  pause  double  that  of  the 
comma ;  the  colon  double  that  of  the  semicolon  ; 
and  the  period,  double  that  of  the  colon.  The  pre- 
cise quantity  or  duration  of  each  pause  cannot  be 
defined ;  for  it  varies  with  the  time  of  the  whole. 
The  same  composition  may  be  rehearsed  in  a 
quicker  or  slower  time  ;  but  the  proportion  between 
the  pauses  should  be  ever  invariable."  Modern 
elocution  properly  rejects  all  this.  We  perceive 
that  the  proportion  existing  between  these  points, 
so  far  from  being  invariable,  is  the  most  variable  of 
quantities.  A  rhetorical  pause  of  inconceivable 
duration  may  be  introduced,  upon  occasion,  after  a 


PUNCTUATION.  45 

comma,  or  the  voice  may  incur  no  suspension  what- 
ever.    So  with  the  other  points. 

Sometimes,  too,  the  voice  may  fall  as  completely 
at  a  comma  as  it  possibly  could  at  a  period  ;  and 
sometimes  the  voice  should  be  so  sustained  at  a 
period  that  it  can  hardly  be  said  to  fall  in  the  least. 

In  accordance  with  old  theories,  Mr.  Murray  thus 
punctuates  the  following  sentence:  "The  good 
taste  of  the  present  age,  has  not  allowed  us  to  neg- 
lect the  cultivation  of  the  English  language."  In 
these  days  very  few  writers  would  insert  a  comma 
after  the  word  "  age  "  ;  and  if  it  were  inserted  no 
one  would  make  any  pause  there  in  reading  it 
aloud. 

Let  me  give  a  few  illustrations  to  show  how 
the  otherwise  good  reader  may  be  in  bondage  to 
the  comma.  Opening  the  first  book  at  hand, 
Green's  "  History  of  the  English  People,"  I  find  a 
sentence,  **  Near,  however,  as  Llewellyn  seemed  to 
the  final  realization  of  his  aims,  he  was  still  a  vassal 
of  the  English  crown."  This,  it  would  seem,  has  cor- 
rect grammatical  punctuation,  but  no  one  speaking 
such  a  sentence  extemporaneously  would  be  apt  to 
make  any  pause  whatever  after  the  word  "  near," 
and  probably  none  after  the  word  "  however." 
But  as  the  eye  is  arrested  by  these  stops  on  the 
page,    a  common  error  is    introduced  of  bringing 


46  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

Up  the  voice  with  a  jerk,  as  it  were,  and  a  fixed 
principle  of  artificiality  is  established. 

For  the  same  illustration  I  take  the  liberty  of 
quoting  a  sentence  from  the  Easy  Chair  of  the 
July  "  Harper  "  of  1886.  "  It  is  true,  also,  that  while 
much  critical  writing  to-day  is  intelligent  and  dis- 
criminating, few  artists  or  authors  probably  will 
own  that  they  derived  much  benefit  from  the  com- 
ments upon  their  works.  Many  authors,  indeed, 
never  read  the  criticisms  or  notices  of  their  books, 
and  artists  of  all  kinds  are  apt  to  recognize  a  per- 
sonal feeling  in  the  strictures."  This  isolated  pas- 
sage is  quoted  simply  to  point  out  that,  while  it  is 
properly  punctuated,  probably  no  one  could  read  it 
aloud  naturally  who  makes  any  pause  after  the 
word  "true,"  in  the  first  sentence,  or  who  makes 
much  if  any  pause  after  the  word  "also."  Nor 
should  any  pause  follow  the  word  "  authors  "  in  the 
next  sentence,  nor  much  if  any  follow  the  word 
"indeed." 

When  I  write  "this  isolated  passage  is  quoted 
simply  to  point  out  that,  while  it  is  properly  punct- 
uated, etc.,"  the  grammatical  comma  occurs  after 
the  word  "that,"  but  the  rhetorical  comma  most 
certainly  occurs  after  the  word  "  out,"  and  neglects 
the  word  "  that." 

The  fact  of  rhetorical  construction  often  super- 


PUNCTUATION.  47 

seding  the  grammatical  has  led  to  a  less  frequent 
use  of  the  comma.  We  get  such  admirable  English 
from  the  Easy  Chair,  that  I  am  induced  to  quote 
two  sentences  which  show  such  disuse  of  the 
comma  as  would  have  provoked  adverse  comment 
at  one  time.  "  One  of  the  old  Tribune  jokes  was 
that  the  genuine  rural  reader  of  the  paper  believed 
that  Horace  Greeley  wrote  everything  in  it.  There 
are  many  excellent  persons  still  in  the  bondage  of 
print  who  accept  Horace  Greeley  as  equally  un- 
questionable an  authority  upon  a  picture  or  upon 
the  duty  on  wool.'* 

Read  aloud  as  you  would  speak  the  following 
sentence  from  Collier's  "  History  of  English  Litera- 
ture/* and  you  will  make  no  pause  after  the  words 
"or "and  *' indeed." 

"  Oldest  of  all  British  literature,  or,  indeed,  of  all 
literature  in  modern  Europe,  of  which  any  speci- 
mens remain,  are  some  scraps  of  Irish  verse,  found 
in  the  Annalists  and  ascribed  to  the  fifth  century." 

And  from  the  same  author,  "  Edmund  Spenser 
was,  in  point  of  time,  the  second  of  the  four  grand 
old  masters  of  our  poetical  literature."  In  reading 
this  one  would  be  very  apt,  if  he  read  as  he  speaks, 
to  make  a  pause  after  **  Spenser,"  none  after  "  was  " 
or  "  time,"  and  a  slight  one  after  "  second  "  ;  all  of 


48  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

which  is  in  opposition  to  the  points  he  sees  in 
print. 

In  Act.  3,  of  the  play  of  Hamlet,  enter  Rosen- 
crantz  and  Guildenstern.  Observe  the  commas  in 
the  conversation,  as  they  appear  in  print,  and  I  be- 
lieve correctly  placed,  and  how  many  of  them  the 
actors  must  discard ! 

''  GuiL  Good,  my  lord,  vouchsafe  me  a  word  with 
you. 

Ham,  Sir,  a  whole  history. 

GuiL  The  King,  Sir, — 

Ham,  Ay,  sir,  what  of  him  ? 

GuiL  Is,  in  his  retirement,  marvellous  distem- 
pered. 

Ham,  With  drink,  sir? 

GuiL  No,  my  lord,  with  choler. 

Ham.  Your  wisdom  should  show  itself  more 
richer  to  signify  this  to  the  doctor  ;  for,  for  me  to 
put  him  to  his  purgation,  would  perhaps  plunge  him 
into  more  choler." 

In  conclusion,  if  in  reading  aloud  you  do  not 
form  the  habit  of  discarding  the  grammatical  point 
when  it  conflicts  with  the  rhetorical,  you  have  not 
advanced  quite  to  the  point  desired. 

Opening  at  random  a  chapter  of  Knickerbocker's 
history  of  New  York,  I  find  a  series  of  sentences  in 
which  there  is  no  absolute  fall  of  the  voice  at  any 


PUNCTUATION.  49 

one  of  the  periods.    The  voice  has  a  circumflex  ac- 
cent. 

*'  There  are  two  opposite  ways  by  which  some 
men  make  a  figure  in  the  world  :  one,  by  talking 
faster  than  they  think,  and  the  other,  by  holding 
their  tongues  and  not  thinking  at  all.  By  the  first, 
many  a  smatterer  acquires  the  reputation  of  being  a 
man  of  quick  parts  ;  by  the  other,  many  a  dunder- 
pate,  like  the  owl,  the  stupidest  of  birds,  comes  to 
be  considered  the  very  type  of  wisdom.  This,  by 
the  way,  is  a  casual  remark,  which  I  would  not,  for 
the  universe,  have  it  thought  I  apply  to  Governor 
Van  Twiller.  It  is  true  he  was  a  man  shut  up 
within  himself,  like  an  oyster,  and  rarely  spoke,  ex- 
cept in  monosyllables  ;  but  then  it  was  allowed  he 
seldom  said  a  foolish  thing." 
4 


CHAPTER  VI. 

ACCENT.       EMPHASIS. 

The  pupil  who  is  anxious  to  excel  will  do  well  to 
study  the  history  of  the  two  words  which  head  this 
chapter,  as  they  bear  diverse  meanings,  from  very, 
narrow  ones  to  those  which  authorize  our  saying  of  a 
man  that  he  speaks  a  foreign  tongue  with  a  perfecti 
accent,  or  that  he  delivered  a  long  discourse  with  adJ 
mirable  emphasis. 

It  is  with  the  narrower  meanings  that  we  have 
chiefly  to  do,  and  they  are  sufficiently  confusing. 

Accent,  in  our  language,  is  primarily  the  peculiar 
stress  of  the  voice  placed  upon  a  letter  or  syllable,  to 
distinguish  that  letter  or  syllable  from  the  rest  of 
the  word  ;  as  emphasis  is  a  similar  stress  laid  upon 
a  word  or  words  to  distinguish  it  or  them  from  the 
rest  of  the  sentence. 

In  our  tongue,  every  word  of  more  than  one  sylla- 
ble has  one,  at  least,  of  those  syllables  accented  ; — ■ 
to  help  us  the  better  to  comprehend  the  meaning  of 
the  word.  What  dreadful  monotony  would  prevail 
if  this  were  not  the  case ! 

50 


ACCENT.      EMPHASIS.  5 1 

You  can  find  long  lists  of  words  that  as  verbs 
or  nouns  have  differing  accents  ;  as  when  in  order 
to  convert  a  man,  we  make  him  a  c6nvert,  or,  if  the 
judge  convicts  a  man,  it  is  to  make  him  a  cdnvict. 
The  word  amen,  with  all  its  sacred  associations,  sig- 
nificantly and  impressively  stands  alone  among  dis- 
syllabic words  in  being  pronounced  with  two  ac- 
cents. 

Occasionally,  words  of  even  four  syllables  have 
but  one  accent,  as  the  word  detrimental  ;  and,  by 
the  way,  there  are  a  number  of  curious  accents  con- 
nected with  the  word  Orthoepy.  This  word  at  least 
should  be  definite  ;  but  there  are  four  different  ways 
of  pronouncing  it,  by  as  many  authorities. 

We  need  an  Academy,  like  that  of  France. 

Sometimes  there  is  a  primary  accent,  and  a  sec- 
ondary on  the  same  word,  as  in  the  word  recollection, 
the  primary  in  this  case  being  on  the  third  syllable  ; 
and  there  may  be  a  still  greater  number  of  accents 
in  such  words  as  incomprehensibility  and  unconsti- 
tutionality. 

All  these  are  what  might  be  called  dictionary  ac- 
cents ;  and  then  we  have  to  deal  with  others,  en- 
tirely different,  which  are  rhetorical  accents.  These 
we  get  from  the  Greek,  and  they  are  the  acute  (')  or 
rising,  the  grave  Q  or  falling,  and  the  circumflex  ('^) 
or  waving.    Accent  now  becomes  inflection.     The 


52  ELOCUTIONARY   HINTS. 

rising  is  used  when  we  ask  a  simple  question,  as, 
"  Are  you  going  to-day^  ?  "  and  the  falling,  in  the  an- 
swer, "  No  !  I  am  going  to-mor^row."  This  is  plain 
enough  ;  but  strange  to  say,  many  a  pupil,  in  read- 
ing aloud,  finds  great  difficulty  in  managing  the  cir- 
cumflex, although  he  may  have  no  difficulty  of  the 
kind  in  colloquial  intercourse.  If  true,  this  is  deplor- 
able ;  for  the  waves  of  the  circumflex  are  as  multi- 
tudinous as  those  of  the  ocean,  and  like  them  may 
be  lashed  into  billows,  or  *'  lapse  on  quiet  shores." 

Take  the  play  of  Julius  Caesar,  and  how  thor- 
oughly Shakespeare  displays  this  in  his  treatment  of 
the  word  ''honorable,"  when  Antony  speaks  to  the 
Roman  mob.  It  is  a  very  gentle  and  artful  circum- 
flex which  the  orator  uses  when  he  says, 

"  O  masters  !  if  I  were  disposed  to  stir 
Your  hearts  and  minds  to  mutiny  and  rage, 
I  should  do  Brutus  wrong,  and  Cassius  wrong, 
Who,  you  all  know,  are  honorable  men  ;" 

but  rather  more  is  required  when  he  fears  that  he 
has  "wronged  the  honorable  men  whose  daggers 
have  stabbed  Caesar  ; " — and  when  it  comes  to, 

"  Good  friends,  sweet  friends,  let  me  not  stir  you  up 
To  such  a  sudden  flood  of  mutiny, 
They  that  have  done  this  deed  are  honorable: 


ACCENT.      EMPHASIS.  53 

What  private  griefs  they  have,  alas,  I  know  not, 
That  made  them  do't ;  they  are  wise  and  honor^ 

able. 
And  will  no  doubt  with  reasons  answer  you,'* 

the  circumflex  becomes  a  power  which  is  terrible  in 
its  significance. 

Is  then  my  comparison  to  the  billow  merely  a  fig- 
ure of  speech  ?  Let  us  see  whether  the  image  of  the 
lapsing  wave  will  hold  as  good.  Turn  to  the  "  Mer- 
chant of  Venice," — listen  to  Portia's  utterance  of 
the  words  **  love  "  and  "  hate,"  as  she  stands  trem- 
bling with  fear  and  hope  before  the  caskets : 

"  There's  something  tells  me  (but  it  is  not  love) 
I  would  not  lose  you  ;  and  you  know  yourself 
Hate  counsels  not  in  such  a  quality.'* 

If  you  cannot  detect  the  exquisitely  delicate  insin- 
uation of  her  tones,  rest  assured  Bassanio  could,  for 
when  she  says  ** confess  and  live,"  Bassanio's  "con- 
fess and  love  *'  is  the  truest  echo.  Surely  the  cir- 
cumflex accent  runs  through  the  entire  gamut  of 
human  passion  ;  and  you  will  get  control  of  it  only 
by  patient  study.  It  has  subtile  distinctions  which 
you  can  seize  by  your  own  research  and  practice 
better  than  by  further  illustrations  of  mine. 

Let  us  go  to  the  subject  of  emphasis.  In  the 
definition  usually  given,  emphasis  is  signified  by  a 


54  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

peculiar  stress  laid  upon  the  word  ;  but  it  must  be 
carefully  noted  that  this  stress  or  power  can  be  ma- 
terially helped  by  allowing  the  voice  to  fall  after 
the  important  word  just  as  much  as  it  does  ordina- 
rily at  a  period :  and  this  even  when  there  is  no 
point  of  punctuation  following  the  word.  Take,  for 
example,  Shylock's  lines,  *'  The  villany  you  teach 
me  I  will  execute ;  and  it  shall  go  hard  but  I  will 
better  the  instruction."  Supposing  that,  in  your 
reading  of  the  line,  you  wish  to  emphasize  the  word 
"  better,"  you  do  it  most  effectively  not  merely  by 
additional  force  upon  that  word,  but  by  dropping 
the  voice  as  completely  as  possible.  To  make  it 
plainer,  I  will  place  a  period  after  "  better,"  and 
then  draw  a  line  ;  so  that  you  will  be  the  more 
tempted  to  follow  the  suggestion. 

"  The  villany  you  teach  me  I  will  execute  ;  and 
it  shall  go  hard  but  I  will  better. the  instruc- 
tion." 

A  slight  pause  after  the  important  word  is  still 
another  form  of  emphasis,  for  it  arrests  and  excites 
attention ;  and,  finally,  you  will  be  particular  to 
keep  the  voice  on  a  low  pitch  when  you  utter  "  the 
instruction** 

A  little  child  hardly  needs  such  suggestions  as 
these  for  his  play-mate  talk,  and  yet  the  adult  will 


ACCENT.      EMPHASIS.  55 

disregard  them  in  reading  aloud.  If  not  artful,  we 
must  be  full  of  art,  to  be  **  natural "  ! 

In  further  illustration  of  this  matter,  take  a  por- 
tion of  Hamlet's  address  to  the  players. 

"  Speak  the  speech,  I  pray  you,  as  I. pro- 
nounced it  to  you,  trippingly. on  the  tongue  : 

but  if  you  mouth  it,  as  many  of  our  players  do,  I 

had  as  lief  the   town-crier. spoke  my  lines. 

Nor  do  not  saw  the  air  too  much  with  your  hand, 
thus ;  but  use  all  gently :  for  in  the  very  torrent* 

tempest. and,  as  I  may  say,  whirlwind. 

of  your  passion,  you  must  acquire  and  beget 

a  temperance  to  give  it  smoothness.    O,  it  offends 

me  to  the  soul. to  hear  a  robustious  peri-wig- 

pated  fellow  tear  a  passion  to  tatters. to  very 

rags. to  split  the  ears  of  the  groundlings  who 

for  the  most  part  are  capable  of  nothing  but  inex- 
plicable dumb  show  and  noise." 

In  the  foregoing  example  I  do  not  intend  the  line 
to  indicate  a  pause  of  any  special  length,  but  simply 
the  more  to  induce  you  to  make  the  voice  fall  com- 
pletely at  the  fictitious  periods  which  are  introduced 
for  that  purpose. 

Certain  words  of  Mr.  Gladstone,  taken  from  a 
speech  at  Liverpool,  are  inserted  here  for  no  other 
reason  than  to  repeat  such  eloquent  sentences  with 
the  emphasis  I  venture  to  indicate,  and  the  occa- 


$6  ELOCUTIONARY   HINTS. 

sional  opening  of  a  sentence  on  a  low  pitch.  As  be- 
fore, the  fictitious  period  and  line  are  used  for  the 
emphatic  fall,  and  the  low  pitch  signified  by  a  small 
letter  instead  of  a  capital. 

*'  It  was  here  that  I  first  drew  breath.  I  have 
drawn  it  now  seventy-six  years.  The  time  is  not 
distant  when  I  shall  pay  my  debt  to  nature,  and 
these,  possibly,  are  the  last  words  I  shall  speak  in 
Liverpool.  If  idle  and  shallow  pretexts  bewilder 
the  mind  of  the  people,  or  if  power,  wealth  and  rank 

overbear  national  sense,  the  child  unborn. will 

rue  the  voting  of  that  day. 

"  I  entreat  you  to  resolve  that  the  civilized  world 
shall  no  longer  assert  that  Ireland  is  England's  Po- 
land.  and  to  determine  that  England  shall  no 

longer  have. a  Poland,     she  has  had  it  long 

enough.     Listen  to  prudence,  courage  and  honor. 

*  Ring  out  the  old. ring  in  the  new.*     Ring  out 

the  notes  of  memory  and  discord. and  ring  in 

the  blessed  reign  of  a  time  of  peace." 

Let  me  introduce  here  Portia's  appeal  for  mercy, 
analyzing  it  after  my  own  fashion  line  by  line,  mark- 
ing the  circumflex  accents  or  inflections,  inserting  a 
smaller  type  for  the  parenthetical  parts  (which  are 
therefore  to  be  delivered  on  a  lower  pitch),  introduc- 
ing a  period  and  line  to  mark  the  emphatic  fall,  and 


ACCENT.      EMPHASIS.  5/ 

occasionally  beginning  a  sentence  on  a  low  pitch,  as 
indicated  by  a  small  letter  instead  of  a  capital. 
"  The  quality  of  mercy  is  not  strained ; 
it  droppeth  as  the  gentle  rain  from  heaven 

upon  the  place  beneath  :    it  is  twice. bless'd  ; 

it  blesseth  him  that  gives,  and  him  that  takes. 

'Tis  mightiest  in. the  mightiest :   it  becomes 

the  throned  monarch  better  than  his  crown : 
His  sceptre  shows  the  force  of  temporal  power, 

the  attribute  to  awe  and  majesty, 

wherein  doth  sit  the  dread  and  fear  of  kings  ; 

But  mercy  is  above  this  sceptred  sway : 

It  is  enthroned  in  the  hearts. of  kings, 

it  is  an  attribute  to  God  himself ; 

And  earthly  power  doth   then  show  likest. 

God's, 
When  mercy  seasons  justice,     therefore,  Jew, 

Though  justice  be. thy  plea,  consider  this, 

That,  in  the  course  of  justice,  none  of  us 

Should  see  salvation  :  we  do  pray. for  mercy  ; 

And  that  same  prayer  doth  teach  us  all  to  render 

The  deeds. of  mercy,    i  have  spoke  thus  much, 

To  mitigate  the  justice  of  thy  plea  ; 

Which  if  thou  follow,  this  strict  court  of  Venice 

Must    needs   give   sentence    'gainst    the   merchant 

there." 

Let  me  add  to  this  analysis  that  the  line  "  it  is 


58  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

an  attribute  to  God  himself  "  especially  calls  for  a 
deep  and  solemn  monotone. 

And  you,  my  pupil,  whose  voice  is  "  soft,  gentle 
and  low  (an  excellent  thing  in  woman),"  I  would 
not  have  you  think  that  I  am  dictating  exactly  how 
you  should  render  this  beautiful  passage.  Mine  are 
only  hints,  not  rules.  And  surely  you  will  know 
that  when  you  read  "this  sceptred  sway,"  since  the 
same  consonant  s  ends  one  word  and  begins  the 
next,  a  slight  pause  (slight  indeed  but  nevertheless 
a  pause)  must  separate  those  words,  or  else  the  two 
consonants  will  melt  into  one ;  and  you  perceive  al- 
so that  the  same  thing  holds  good  as  to  the  line 
**  this  strict  court  of  Venice  " ;  and  you  recognize 
that  emphasis  has  still  another  quality,  for  in  the 
whole  composition  it  regulates  the  quantity  or  time  ; 
and  you  feel  at  liberty  to  take  my  suggestions  with 
large  reservation  on  account  of  the  way  in  which 
you  yourself  understand  Portia ;  and  possibly  you 
insist  that  no  man  can  tell  a  woman  "who  has  found 
the  key-note  of  Portia's  character  how  to  express 
the  language  of  that  admirable  creation.  Loving 
Bassanio  with  absolute  faith,  she  will  never  be  won, 
it  appears,  but  in  a  single  way.  Portia  must  always 
win,  for  she  walks  by  the  divine  commandment, — 
honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother. 

To  read  the  lines  of  her  appeal,  however,  with 


ACCENT.      EMPHASIS.  59 

absolute  fidelity  to  the  situation  as  well  as  to  the 
character,  there  is  demanded  the  closest  study  of 
the  trial  scene  of  the  play. 

Shakespeare  had  his  own  way  of  seizing  a  golden 
opportunity.  It  was  so  when  he  found  here  an  op- 
portunity for  saying  something  beautiful  about  the 
attributes  of  mercy.  I  believe  also,  that  he  in- 
tended Portia's  speech  as  a  quasi-appeal  and  not  a 
genuine  one. 

This  view  has  not  been  disclosed  by  any  of  the 
criticisms  familiar  to  me,  and  certainly  not  by  the 
general  stage  rendering,  which  holds  that  Portia 
hopes  at  once  to  mollify  the  Jew  by  her  eloquent 
and  touching  supplication,  and  if  that  should  fail, 
to  argue  the  case.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  Portia 
is  far  more  mistress  of  the  occasion  than  this  would 
imply.  Remember  that  she  has  no  need  to  ask  for 
mercy.  She  has  come  into  court  assured  of  victory, 
as  her  conduct  proves. 

Is  not  this  appeal  intended  to  draw  the  Jew  more 
and  more  into  a  belief  of  his  ultimate  triumph? 
Certainly  it  has  such  an  effect ;  and  when  she  has 
got  him  into  a  state  of  almost  demoniac  exultation, 
suddenly  she  turns  upon  him  with  the  full  power  of 
the  law.  All  the  greater  now  is  his  discomfiture 
and   her  triumph,  and,  what  is  very  important  to 


6o  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

Shakespeare,  the  playwright,  all  the  more  dramatic 
the  climax. 

To  sustain  this  view,  note  especially  that  at  the 
close  of  the  appeal  for  mercy  she  does  not  wait  for 
Shylock's  answer,  but,  on  the  contrary,  hastens  to 
side  with  him,  as  it  were,  for  she  says, — 

"  I  have  spoke  thus  much 
To  mitigate  the  justice  of  thy  plea  ; 
Which  if  thou  follow,  this  strict  court  of  Venice 
Must   needs   give   sentence    'gainst    the   merchant 
there." 
And  again,  in  perfect  accordance  with  her  plan  of 
action,    when   Bassanio   begs  that  she  will  **  wrest 
once  the  law  to  her  authority,"  what  does  Portia 
say? 

"  It  must  not   be ;  there   is    no  power  in  Venice 
Can  alter  a  decree  established." 

Of  course  the  Jew  is  deceived,  and  sees  a  "  second 
Daniel  come  to  judgment."  But  Portia  can  trust 
her  wit  a  little  further.     She  says, 

**  Why,  this  bond  is  forfeit ; 
And  lawfully  by  this  the  Jew  may  claim 
A  pound  of  flesh  to  be  by  him  cut  off 
Nearest  the  merchant's  heart. 
Be  merciful. 
Take  thy  money  ;  bid  me  tear  the  bond." 


ACCENT.      EMPHASIS.  6l 

When  the  Duke  gives  up  the  cause ;  when  Bassa- 
nio  pleads  in  vain ;  when  Antonio  bids  farewell  to 
his  friend,  and  to  life  itself,  what  is  it  that  sustains 
the  heart  of  Portia,  seconding  her  will  so  that  the 
"  little  body  "  is  enabled  to  stand  firmly  before  the 
terrible  demonstrations  of  the  Jew  ? 

To  my  mind,  she  has  been  granted  strength  for 
this,  the  second  ordeal  of  her  life,  because  she  has 
recognized  the  sacredness  of  filial  obligation. 
Shakespeare  has  drawn  the  opposite  of  this  picture 
in  the  drama  of  Lear.  Goneril  and  Regan  are  mon- 
sters of  filial  ingratitude,  and  end  their  lives  igno- 
miniously. 

It  is  for  Portia  to  see  *'  how  far  a  little  candle 
throws  its  beams  ** ;  and  for  her  to  draw  the  simili- 
tude, **  So  shines  a  good  deed  in  a  naughty  world," 
and  then  to  point  the  moral  in  her  own  career. 
An  admirable  pattern  for  woman, — this  obedient 
child  and  loving  wife  ; — because  the  one  therefore 
the  other. 

One  more  illustration  will  be  offered,  and  for  the 
guidance  of  young  men  who  may  be  interested  in 
the  subject  of  elocution. 

Practice  in  the  following  quotation,  the  various 
phases  of  the  circumflex,  and  remember  the  mean- 
ing of  the  small  letters  at  the  opening  of  an  occa- 
sional line,  and  acquire  the  habit  suggested  by  the 


62  ELOCUTIONARY   HINTS. 

fictitious  period  and  the  line  following  it. 
Polonius  says  to  Laertes  : — 

**  Give  thy  thoughts  no  tongue, 
Nor  any  unproportioned  thought  his  act : 
Be  thou  familiar,  but  by  no  means  vulgar, 
the  friends  thou  hast,  and    their    adoption   tried, 
Grapple  them  to  thy  soul  with  hoops  of  steel ; 
(A  rapid  utterance  of  this  last  line  is  surely  appro- 
priate.) 

But  do  not  dull  thy  palm  with  entertainment 
of  each  new-hatch'd,  unfledged  comrade. 
(The  above  two  lines  may  be  significantly  read 
by  speaking  the  word  "  but "  on  a  tolerably  high 
pitch,  and  letting  the  voice  fall  by  a  gradual  but 
sure  descent  to  the  word  **  comrade.") 
Beware 

Of  entrance  to  a  quarrel. but  being  in, 

Bear  it,  that  the  opposer  may  beware  of  thee. 

(You  will  see  the  propriety  of  making  no  pause  af- 
ter the  word  "  but,"  and  none  after  the  phrase  *'  bear 

it.") 

Give  every  man  thine  ear,  but  few  thy  voice  : 
take  each  man's  censure,  but  reserve  thy  judgment : 
Costly  thy  habit  as  thy  purse  can  buy. 

But  not  express'd. in  fancy  ;   rich  not  gaudy ; 

For  the  apparel  oft  proclaims  the  man  ; 


ACCENT.      EMPHASIS.  63 

and  they  in  France,  of  the  best  rank  and  station, 
are  of  a  most  select  and  generous  chief,  in  that. 

neither  a  borrower  nor  a  lender, be  ; 

for  loan  oft  loses  both  itself  and  friend ; 
and  borrowing  dulls  the  edge  of  husbandry. 

This  above  all ;  to  thine  own  self. be  true  ; 

And  it  must  follow  as  the  night  the  day, 

Thou  canst  not  then  be  false  to  any. man. 

Suppose  you  render  the  words  **this  above  all" 
by  a  slight  pause  after  the  word  "this,"  then  sud- 
denly and  impressively  dropping  the  voice  on 
**  above  all."  Also,  the  words  *' as  the  night  the 
day "  should  be  read  rapidly  and  in  an  off-hand 
manner,  and  just  as  if  the  comparison  were  a  matter 
of  course.  Then  the  words  "  canst  not  then  "  may 
be  uttered  with  a  decided  beat  upon  each  one  ; — 
what  would  be  called,  in  music,  a  staccato  manner. 

These  principles  of  emphasis  are  applicable  to 
every  sort  of  composition, — in  prose  or  poetry,  and 
in  the  application  "  let  your  own  discretion  be  your 
tutor." 

Finally,  let  me  urge  an  avoidance  of  any  forcible 
stress  upon  small  and  comparatively  unimportant 
words  because  the  articulation  of  such  words  is  com- 
monly neglected.  More  than  to  speak  them  dis- 
tinctly is  sheer  affectation. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

HOW  TO   READ   POETRY. 

Possibly  you  may  be  mechanically  accurate,  but 
inartistic,  if  you  do  not  recognize  the  propriety  of 
the  suggestion  I  now  venture  to  put  forth. 

Try  to  read  poetry  as  if  it  were  prose.  What 
radicalism !  you  exclaim.  Well,  we  wish  to  go  to 
the  root  of  the  matter.  I  will  not  bate  one  syllable 
of  the  wording  of  that  suggestion ;  at  the  same  time 
endeavoring  to  give  the  explanation  called  for. 
Note  that  my  direction  is  not — read  poetry  as  if  it 
were  prose,  but  TRY  to  do  so.  And  I  admit  that  if 
you  were  absolutely  successful  the  reading  would 
be  tame  indeed.  And  I  also  see  that,  if  you  are 
blessed  with  the  usual  ear  for  rhythm,  it  will  be  im- 
possible for  you  to  read  poetry  as  if  it  were  prose. 
Why  give  a  rule,  then,  which  apparently  defeats  it- 
self. This  defeat  is  an  apparent  one  and  not  real. 
The  victory  will  be  won  through  that  very  ear  for 
rliythm  which  will  protect  you.  It  will  save  you 
from  reading  poetry  precisely  as  if  it  were  prose, 
and  at  the  same  time   you  ascertain  that  the  per- 

64 


HOW  TO   READ  POETRY.  6^ 

sistent  effort  to  do  so  is  the  only  method  of  avoid- 
ing the  monotony  of  song.  It  is  not  merely  the 
pronounced  sing-song  delivery  which  is  to  be 
guarded  against,  but  the  various  insidious  approaches 
to  it. 

The  matter  is  to  be  considered  in  different  lights. 
You  will  admit,  at  least,  that  my  rule  is  best  fitted 
to  bring  out  the  sense.  It  is  a  corollary  to  the  ad- 
vice of  Mr.  Yellowplush.  "  Take  my  advice,  honra- 
bble  Sir  —  listen  to  a  humble  footmin :  its  gen- 
rally  best  in  poatry  to  understand  puffickly  what 
you  mean  yourself,  and  to  ingspress  your  meaning 
clearly  afterwoods — in  the  simpler  words  the  better, 
praps."  Admitting  the  truth  of  this,  we  will  try 
first,  in  the  reading  of  poetry,  to  bring  out  the 
sense ;  after  that  to  introduce  the  ornamentation 
proper. 

Before  other  explanation,  let  me  present  a 
familiar  verse  of  Seattle's  that,  from  the  manner  in 
which  I  have  run  the  words  together,  will  show 
what  utter  nonsense  a  deliberate  sing-song  delivery 
creates.  Read  it  aloud,  and  with  no  more  of  abso- 
lute surrender  of  yourself  to  the  metre  than  your 
own  ears  have  experienced,  and  what  is  the  result  ? 

"  At  the  close  of  the  daywhenthe   hamlet   is  still, 
And  mortals  the  sweetsoffor  getfulness  prove,         , 
5 


66  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

When  naught  but  the  torrentis  heard  on  the  hill, 
And  naught  but  the    nightingale's    song    in   the 
grove." 

Daywhenthe  is  only  to  be  exceeded  by  sweetsoffor ! 

If  you  are  not  guilty  of  exaggeration  like  this, 
nevertheless  there  may  be  a  dangerous  approach  to 
it  without  your  being  aware.  But  even  in  such  a 
verse,  where  the  metrical  beat  is  so  strongly  marked 
that  it  is  hard  not  to  succumb  to  it,  nothing  is  nec- 
essary but  the  judicious  insertion  of  rhetorical 
pauses.  These  pauses  are  not  laid  down  on  the 
printed  page,  and  therefore  we  must  form  the  habit 
of  recognizing  them  with  the  mind's  eye.  They  do 
not  disturb  the  time,  which  can  still  be  kept  as  per- 
fectly as  if  regulated  by  a  musician's  baton,  and 
they  do  put  an  end  to  the  sing-song,  while  the  sense, 
also,  is  clearly  shown. 

Let  me  introduce  such  pauses  in  the  verse  quoted, 
premising  that  their  length  must  be  regulated  by 
the  reader's  ear  for  rhythm. 

At  the  close  of  the  day, — when  the  hamlet  is  still, — 
And  mortals  the  sweets  of  forgetfulness  prove, — 
When  naught  but  the  torrent — is  heard  on  the  hill, — 
And  naught   but   the    nightingale's    song — in    the 

grove. 
You    note   that   the   sense   is   unbroken ;    that   no 


HOW  TO   READ   POETRY.  6/ 

pause  occurs  in  the  second  line  until  the  end,  and 
none  in  the  fourth  till  near  the  close. 

In  further  illustration,  take  these  two  verses  from 
Whittier's  Burns : 

But  who  his  human  heart  has  laid 

To  Nature's  bosom  nearer? — 
Who  sweetened  toil  like  him, — or  paid 

To  love  a  tribute  dearer  ? 


Through  all  his  tuneful  art, — how  strong 

The  human  feeling  gushes  ! 
The  very  moonlight  of  his  song 

Is  warm  with  smiles  and  blushes  ! 


Note  that  no  appreciable  pause  occurs  in  the  first 
verse  until  after  the  close  of  the  second  line.  There 
should  be  a  decided  pause  after  the  word  ''  him  "  in 
the  third  line,  and  decidedly  none  at  the  close  of 
that  line.  In  the  second  verse,  the  first  line  has  its 
pause  after  the  word  "  art  "  ;  there  should  be  none 
after  the  word  "  strong." 

In  reading  poetry  after  this  fashion  we  do  pre- 
cisely what  the  accomplished  singer  does  when  he 
observes  the  rallentando  and  crescendo  movements, 
and  yet  keeps  the  time  of  the  composition,  so  that 
the  accompanist  may  not  be  disconcerted.     Blank 


68  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

verse,  the  highest  form  of  English  poetry,  by  Its 
very  approach  to  prose  gives  us  a  hint  as  to  the 
proper  rendering. 

In  the  shape  of  prose  this  is  the  opening  of  Para- 
dise Lost.  It  is  an  example  familiar  to  many  stu- 
dents. 

*'  Of  man*s  first  disobedience,  and  the  fruit  of 
that  forbidden  tree,  whose  mortal  taste  brought 
death  into  the  world,  and  all  our  woe,  with  loss  of 
Eden,  till  one  greater  man  restore  us,  and  regain 
the  blissful  seat,  sing  heavenly  muse  ! " 

Arranged  as  blank  verse,  a  slight  but  hardly  de- 
finable metrical  pause  may  be  occasionally  necessary 
for  the  close  of  a  line,  because  there  is  no  rhyme  to 
make  a  broad  distinction  ;  but  this  almost  imper- 
ceptible lingering  of  the  voice  is  occasional  only, 
whereas  the  rhetorical  pauses  are  in  constant  de- 
mand for  proper  elocution. 

Let  it  be  carefully  noted  that  a  certain  exaltation 
of  tone,  natural  to  the  delivery  of  all  poetry, 
especially  blank  verse,  helps  to  save  us  from  prosaic 
reading  ;  and  with  the  added  safeguard  of  the 
average  perception  of  rhythm,  it  seems  to  me 
proper  to  urge  you  to  try  to  read  poetry  as  if  it 
were  prose. 

In  a  "Lesson  for  a  Boy,"  Coleridge  humorously 
and  ingeniously  describes  the  different  metrical  feet. 


HOW   TO   READ   POETRY.  69 

A  part  of  this  lesson  is  transcribed,  as  it  constitutes 
a  useful  arrangement  for  memorizing,  and  embraces, 
the  most  important  measures. 
Trochee   trips  fr6m  long  to  short ; 
From  long  to  long  in  solemn  sort 
Slow  Spondee  stalks  ;  strong  foot !  yet  ill  able 
Ev^r  t6  come  iip  w]tth  Dactyl  trysyllable, 
Iambics  march   fr6m  short  t5  long ; 
With   a  leap    and    ^    bound    the    swift    An^pSsts 
throng. 

The  anapestic  measure,  in  which  two  syllables 
are  unaccented  and  the  third  accented,  being  more 
of  a  dancing  movement  than  others,  is  most  liable 
to  be  tortured  into  sing-song  delivery.  In  this 
measure  is  written  the  verse  beginning  "  At  the 
close  of  the  day  when  the  hamlet  is  still."  Those 
exquisite  lines  of  Campbell,  "  The  Soldier's  Dream," 
are  dactylic  with  certain  license.  It  seems  almost 
a  wrong  to  distort  them  in  print.  But  this  is  the 
manner  in  which  they  are  sometimes  read  aloud. 

*'Our    bugles    sang    truceforthe    night-cloud    had 
lowered, 
And  the  sentinel  starssettheir  watch  in  the  sky. 
And  thousands  had  sunkonthe  ground  overpow- 
ered. 
The  weary  to  sleepandthe  wounded  to  die. 


70  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

When  reposing  that  nightonmy  pallet  of  straw, 
By  the  wolf-scaring  fagotthat  guarded  the  slain, 
At  the  dead  of  the  nightasweet  vision  I  saw. 
And  thrice  ere  the  morningi  dreampt  it  again."    • 

You  may  call  these  illustrations  exaggerations. 
Perhaps  they  are  ;  but  it  is  the  insidious  approach 
to  such  methods  of  reading  poetry  that  we  are  to 
guard  against  by  the  method  proposed. 

Blank  verse  is  generally  written  in  iambic  meas- 
ure : — the  first  syllable  unaccented,  the  second  ac- 
cented. This  is  the  measure  of  Whittier's  "  Burns  "; 
but  to  read  either  blank  verse  or  the  rhymes  in 
bondage  to  the  metre  would  be  a  blunder. 

Dactylic  measure,  so  called  from  its  resemblance 
in  quantity  to  the  joints  of  a  finger,  the  first  syllable 
being  accented,  and  the  two  following  unaccented, 
occurs  in  such  lines  as, — 

**  Know  ye  the  land  where  the  cypress  and  myrtle," 
and  in  Scott's  Song  of  Clan  Alpine, 

"  Hail  to  the  chief  who  in  triumph  advances." 

When  our  poets  combine  several  of  these  measures 
in  the  same  poem,  producing  a  pleasing  variety, 
they  facilitate  the  reading  aloud  without  monotony. 
Scott  was  fond  of  the  iambic  measure  ;  and  its  fre- 
quent use  in  such  lengthy  poems  as  the  Lady 
of  the  Lake  helped,  it  may  be,  to  lessen  the  popu- 


HOW   TO    READ    POETRY.  71 

larity  of  the  poet ;  as  nothing  is  easier  than  for  the 
reader  to  yield  to  the  metre  until  a  tiresome  monot- 
ony is  established. 

Take  the  opening  lines  of  the  Introduction  to  the 
"  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel,"  and  perhaps  you  will 
find  it  judicious  to  insert  some  such  pauses  as  are 
here   indicated,  that  you  may  avoid  that  sameness. 

"  The  way  was  long,  the  wind  was  cold  ; 
The  minstrel  was  infirm  and  old. 
His  withered  cheek  and  tresses  gray 
Seemed  to  have  known  a  better  day." 

Place  pauses  after  the  words  "  long  "  and  "  cold  "  ; 
especially  avoid  any  in  the  second  line  till  at  its 
close  ;  place  them  after  the  words  **  cheek "  and 
"gray,"  and  see  that  you  have  none  in  the  fourth 
line  but  at  its  close.  By  some  such  method  you 
will  fulfil  the  necessary  conditions. 

Hood's  Bridge  of  Sighs  is  markedly  dactylic  ;  and 
how  many  mechanically  good  but  inartistic  readers 
have  failed  in  the  delivery  simply  from  too  close 
adherence  to  the  metre  ! 
Take  the  verse, 

"  Touch  her  not  scornfully ; 
Think  of  her  mournfully 
Gently  and  humanly ; 
Not  of  the  stains  of  her, 


72  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

All  that  remains  of  her 
Now  is  pure  womanly." 

Sense,  metre,  and  rhythm  call  for  pauses  at  the 
end  of  every  line  excepting  the  fifth ;  but  a  pause 
at  the  end  of  that  line  is  destructive  of  sense  and 
the  true  rhythm.  These  imperatively  demand  that 
the  pause  should  occur  after  the  word  "now"  in 
the  final  line. 

A  very  slight  suspension  of  the  voice  after  the 
word  *'  gently  "  is  allowable,  and  if  adopted  it  will 
tend  to  shorten  the  pause  at  the  end  of  that  partic- 
ular line,  so  that  the  time  will  be  perfectly  kept. 

Of  all  the  English-writing  poets,  our  own  Long- 
fellow used  the  hexameter  most  successfully.  This 
verse,  in  which  the  Iliad  and  the  ^neid  were  writ- 
ten, contains  six  feet,  of  which  the  fifth  must  be  a 
dactyl,  and  the  sixth  a  spondee.  Read  EvangeHne 
according  to  the  metre,  and  you  fail.  Read  it  with 
the  rhetorical  pauses  to  be  discovered  by  yourself, 
and  you  satisfy  sense  and  rhythm  and  metre. 
Given  the  customary  ear  for  rhythm,  try  to  read  it 
as  if  it  were  prose. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

APPLICATION  OF  THE  VARIOUS  HINTS,  AND  SUM- 
MARY OF  THE  PRINCIPLES.  SELECTIONS  FROM 
THANATOPSIS.  WHITTIER'S  BARCLAY  OF  URY. 
BROWNING'S    HERVE    RIEL. 

Apply  the  various  hints  given,  to  the  reading  of 

Bryant's  blank  verse  in  Thanatopsis. 
Take  the  following  passage, 

"  Yet  not  to  thine  eternal  resting-place 
Shalt  thou  retire  alone ;  nor  couldst  thou  wish 
Couch  more  magnificent.     Thou  shalt  lie  down 
With  patriarchs  of  the  infant  world, — with  kings, 
The  powerful  of  the  earth, — the  wise,  the  good, 
Fair  forms,  and  hoary  seers  of  ages  past, 
All  in  one  mighty  sepulchre.     The  hills. 
Rock-ribbed  and  ancient  as  the  sun  ;  the  vales 
Stretching  in  pensive  quietness  between  ; 
The  venerable  woods ;  rivers  that  move 
In  majesty,  and  the  complaining  brooks. 
That   make   the   meadows    green ;    and,    poured 

round  all, 
Old  ocean's  gray  and  melancholy  waste, — 
73 


74  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

Are  but  the  solemn  decorations  all 
Of  the  great  tomb  of  man  !  ** 

It  is  not  without  positive  knowledge  of  the  fact, 
that  I  have  written  of  the  difficulty  many  readers 
have  in  the  management  of  the  circumflex;  and 
even  when,  strange  to  say,  they  experience  no 
difficulty  of  the  kind  in  colloquial  intercourse. 

In  the  passage  quoted,  the  word  *'  alone  "  uttered 
without  a  decided  circumflex  accent  is  robbed  of 
half  its  sublime  significance.  The  word  **  wish " 
emphasized  only  by  a  stress,  and  unaccompanied  by 
a  positive  fall  of  the  voice  loses  its  force.  After 
such  a  fall  the  words  ** couch  more  magnificent" 
are  to  be  kept  on  a  low  pitch.  ''Thou  shalt  lie 
down"  are  the  words  which  end  the  third  line, 
but  surely  there  should  be  no  pause  or  lingering  of 
the  voice  after  "  down."  The  metrical  beat,  in- 
deed, should  not  be  lost ;  and  it  is  preserved,  and 
sense  and  rhythm  too  are  satisfied,  by  placing  a 
pause  after  the  word  **  world."  Test  the  matter,  if 
you  will,  with  the  baton. 

Reading  "thou  shalt  lie  down,"  and  all  that  fol- 
lows to  the  period,  in  a  low  and  solemn  monotone 
seems  to  accord  with  the  meaning,  and  we  also 
learn  by  it  that  a  monotone  may  constitute  a  vari- 
ety.    If  you  choose  to  emphasize  the  word  " all"  be 


SELECTIONS.  75 

careful  to  let  the  voice  fall  there  also.  The  phrases 
"  rock-ribbed  and  ancient  as  the  sun,"  "  stretching 
in  pensive  quietness  between,"  and  '*  poured  round 
all,"  are  explanatory,  and  therefore  to  be  read  on  a 
lower  pitch  than  that  used  for  what  they  qualify. 

After  the  word  "and,"  which  precedes  ''poured 
round  all,"  occurs  properly  a  comma  (syntax  de- 
manding it),  but  if  you  pause  there,  bringing  up  the 
voice  with  a  jerk,  as  it  were,  rest  assured  that  your 
hearers  will  consider  it  unnatural  and  artificial. 

For  a  special  reason  I  will  quote  the  close  of  the 
poem. 

"  So  live,  that  when  thy  summons   comes  to  join 
The  innumerable  caravan  that  moves 
To  the  pale  realms  of  shade,  where  each  shall  take 
His  chamber  in  the  silent  halls  of  death. 
Thou  go  not,  like  the  quarry-slave  at  night, 
Scourged   to   his   dungeon,   but,    sustained    and 

soothed 
By  an  unfaltering  trust,  approach  thy  grave 
Like  one  who  wraps  the  drapery  of  his  couch 
About  him,  and  lies  down  to  pleasant  dreams." 

But  two  of  these  lines,  apparently,  should  be  met 

at  the  close  with  any  suspension  of  the  voice ;  and 

those    are    the    lines    ending    with    "death"   and 

"night."     Study  the  passage  to  see,  also,  that  in 


f6  ELOCUTIONARY   HINTS. 

it,  and  in  the  whole  poem,  a  lavish  use  of  unseen 
rhetorical  pauses  will  bring  out  in  unison  both  sense 
and  poetry ; — justifying  my  suggestion  that  we 
should  try  to  read  poetry  as  if  it  were  prose. 
Danger  lies  in  another  direction. 

In  order  that  you  may  be  confirmed  in  the  habit 
of  applying  the  principles  heretofore  laid  down,  and 
that  even  when  you  are  reading  at  sight,  let  me 
urge  you  to  make  a  study  of  Whittier's  poem 
"  Barclay  of  Ury."  These  principles  are  summed 
up  again,  applicable,  as  they  may  be,  both  to  prose 
and  poetry ;  viz. :  lower  the  pitch  in  phrases  which 
are  explanatory  and  therefore  parenthetical ;  when 
the  sense  calls  for  it  let  the  voice  fall,  even  at  a 
comma,  as  much  as  it  possibly  could  at  a  period ; 
let  the  voice  be  partially  sustained  at  a  period,  if 
justified  by  the  sense ;  do  not  neglect  the  signifi- 
cant circumflex  accent ;  observe  that  emphasis  is 
made  not  only  by  stress  but  sometimes  by  stress 
accompanied  by  a  complete  fall  of  the  voice ;  note 
that  after  such  a  fall  the  word  or  words  immedi- 
ately following  the  one  emphasized  are  to  be  kept 
on  a  low  pitch, — and  just  as  you  talk;  insert  rhe- 
torical pauses  at  your  discretion  ;  in  the  reading  of 
poetry  insert  these  rhetorical  pauses  so  that  you 
may  avoid  a  sing-song  delivery,  and  at  the  same 
time  observing   both  metre  and  rhythm  ;  use  the 


SELECTIONS.  7/ 

monotone,  when  indicated  by  common  sense,  and 
that  not  only  for  its  own  sake  but  for  the  sake  of 
variety ;  to  escape  a  certain  form  of  monotony  take 
care  that  the  voice  does  not  fall  on  the  same  un- 
varied note  at  the  close  of  every  sentence  or  of 
every  verse  ;  to  avoid  a  still  more  common  monot- 
ony be  careful  to  begin  an  occasional  sentence,  or 
an  occasional^verse,  on  a  low  pitch. 

BARCLAY  OF  URY. 

Up  the  streets  of  Aberdeen, 
By  the  Kirk  and  college  green, 

Rode  the  Laird  of  Ury ; 
Close  behind  him,  close  beside, 
Foul  of  mouth  and  evil-eyed, 

Pressed  the  mob  in  fury. 


Flouted  him  the  drunken  churl, 
Jeered  at  him  the  serving-girl. 

Prompt  to  please  her  master ; 
And  the  begging  carlin,  late 
Fed  and  clothed  at  Ury's  gate. 

Cursed  him  as  he  passed  her. 


Yet,  with  calm  and  stately  mien, 
Up  the  streets  of  Aberdeen 
Came  he  slowly  riding ; 


78  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

And,  to  all  he  saw  and  heard, 
Answering  not  with  bitter  word, 
Turning  not  for  chiding. 


Came  a  troop  with  broadswords  swinging, 
Bits  and  bridles  sharply  ringing, 

Loose  and  free  and  froward ; 
Quoth  the  foremost,  *'  Ride  him  down ! 
Push  him  !  prick  him  !  through  the  town 

Drive  the  Quaker  coward !  " 


But  from  out  the  thickening  crowd 
Cried  a  sudden  voice  and  loud : 

"  Barclay  !  Ho  !  a  Barclay  !  '* 
And  the  old  man  at  his  side 
Saw  a  comrade,  battle-tried. 

Scarred  and  sun-burned  darkly ; 


Who  with  ready  weapon  bare. 
Fronting  to  the  troopers  there. 

Cried  aloud  :  "  God  save  us. 
Call  ye  coward  him  who  stood 
Ankle  deep  in  Lutzen's  blood. 

With  the  brave  Gustavus  ?  " 


**  Nay,  I  do  not  need  thy  sword. 
Comrade  mine,"  said  Ury's  lord  ; 


SELECTIONS.  79 


"  Put  it  Up,  I  pray  thee : 
Passive  to  His  holy  will, 
Trust  I  in  my  Master  still, 

Even  though  he  slay  me. 


"  Pledges  of  thy  love  and  faith, 
Proved  on  many  a  field  of  death, 

Not  by  me  are  needed.'* 
Marvelled  much  that  henchman  bold, 
That  his  laird,  so  stout  of  old. 

Now  so  meekly  pleaded. 


"  Woe's  the  day !  "  he  sadly  said, 
With  a  slowly-shaking  head, 

And  a  look  of  pity ; 
"  Ury's  honest  lord  reviled, 
Mock  of  knave  and  sport  of  child, 

In  his  own  good  City  ! 


"  Speak  the  word,  and,  master  mine. 
As  we  charged  on  Tilly's  line. 

And  his  Walloon  lancers, 
Smiting  through  their  midst  we'll  teach 
Civil  look  and  decent  speech 

To  these  boyish  prancers  !  " 


8o  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

*'  Marvel  not,  mine  ancient  friend, 
Like  beginning,  like  the  end  "  : 

Quoth  the  Laird  of  Ury, 
"  Is  the  sinful  servant  more 
Than  his  gracious  Lord  who  bore 

Bonds  and  stripes  in  Jewry? 


"  Give  me  joy  that  in  his  name 
I  can  bear,  with  patient  frame, 

All  these  vain  ones  offer ; 
While  for  them  he  suffereth  long, 
Shall  I  answer  wrong  with  wrong, 

Scoffing  with  the  scoffer  ? 


*'  Happier  I,  with  loss  of  all, 
Hunted,  outlawed,  held  in  thrall. 

With  few  friends  to  greet  me, 
Than  when  reeve  and  squire  were  seen. 
Riding  out  from  Aberdeen, 

With  bared  heads  to  meet  me. 


"  When  each  good  wife,  o'er  and  o'er. 
Blessed  me  as  I  passed  her  door ; 

And  the  snooded  daughter, 
Through  her  casement  glancing  down, 
Smiled  on  him  who  bore  renown 

From  red  fields  of  slaughter. 


SELECTIONS.  8 1 


'*  Hard  to  feel  the  stranger's  scoff, 
Hard  the  old  friend's  falling  off, 

Hard  to  learn  forgiving : 
But  the  Lord  his  own  rewards, 
And  His  love  with  theirs  accords. 

Warm  and  fresh  and  living. 


''Through  this  dark  and  stormy  night 
Faith  beholds  a  feeble  light 

Up  the  blackness  streaking ; 
Knowing  God's  own  time  is  best, 
In  a  patient  hope  I  rest 

For  the  full  day-breaking  I  ** 


So  the  Laird  of  Ury  said. 
Turning  slow  his  horse's  head 

Towards  the  Tolbooth  prison. 
Where  through  iron  grates,  he  heard 
Poor  disciples  of  the  Word 

Preach  of  Christ  arisen  ! 


Not  in  vain,  Confessor  old, 
Unto  us  the  tale  is  told 

Of  thy  day  of  trial ; 
Every  age  on  him  who  strays 
From  its  broad  and  beaten  ways, 
Pours  its  sevenfold  vial. 
6 


82  ELOCUTIONARY   HINTS. 

Happy  he  whose  inward  ear 
Angel  comfortings  can  hear, 

O'er  the  rabble's  laughter  ; 
And,  while  Hatred's  fagots  burn, 
Glimpses  through  the  smoke  discern 

Of  the  good  hereafter. 


Knowing  this,  that  never  yet 
Share  of  Truth  was  vainly  set 

In  the  world's  wide  fallow  ; 
After  hands  shall  sow  the  seed. 
After  hands  from  hill  and  mead 

Reap  the  harvests  yellow. 


Thus  with  somewhat  of  the  Seer, 
Must  the  moral  pioneer 

From  the  Future  borrow ; 
Clothe  the  waste  with  dreams  of  grain, 
And,  on  midnight's  sky  of  rain. 

Paint  the  golden  morrow ! 

In  the  reading  aloud  of  Whittier's  poem,  it  is 
hard  not  to  succumb  to  a  metre  so  distinctly 
marked  ;  not  so  in  the  following  verse  of  Browning, 
— which  can  never  be  delivered  effectively  without 
(the  rhythm  of  course  observed)  trying  to  read  it  as 
if  it  were  prose. 


SELECTIONS.  83 

HERVfi  RIEL. 


On  the  sea  and  at  the   Hogue,  sixteen  hundred 

ninety-two, 
Did  the  English  fight  the  French, — woe  to  France ! 
And,  the  thirty-first  of  May,  helter-skelter  thro'  the 

blue, 
Like  a  crowd   of   frightened   porpoises  a  shoal  of 

sharks  pursue. 
Came  crowding  ship  on  ship  to  St.  Malo  on   the 

Ranee, 
With  the  English  fleet  in  view. 

2. 

*Twas  the  squadron  that  escaped,  with  the  victor  in 

full  chase ; 
First  and  foremost  of  the  drove,  in  his  great  ship, 

Damfreville ; 
Close  on  him  fled,  great  and  small. 
Twenty-two  good  ships  in  all ; 
And  they  signalled  to  the  place 
"  Help  the  winners  of  a  race ! 
Get  us  guidance,  give  us  harbor,  take  us  quick — or, 

quicker  still. 
Here's  the  English  can  and  will !  " 


84  '        ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

3. 

Then  the  pilots  of  the  place  put  out  brisk  and  leapt 
on  board  ; 

**  Why,  what  hope  or  chance  have  ships  like  these 
to  pass?"  laughed  they: 

"  Rocks  to  starboard,  rocks  to  port,  all  the  passage 
scarred  and  scored. 

Shall  the  ^Formidable'  here  with  her  twelve  and 
eighty  guns 

Think  to  make  the  river-mouth  by  the  single  nar- 
row way, 

Trust  to  enter  where  'tis  ticklish  for  a  craft  of 
twenty  tons. 

And  with  flow  at  full  beside  ? 

Now,  'tis  slackest  ebb  of  tide. 

Reach  the  mooring  ?     Rather  say, 

While  rock  stands  or  water  runs, 

Not  a  ship  will  leave  the  bay  1  ** 

4. 
Then  was  called  a  council  straight, 
Brief  and  bitter  the  debate: 
**  Here's  the  English  at  our  heels ;  would  you  have 

them  take  in  tow 
All  that's  left  us  of  the  fleet,  linked  together  stem 

and  bow. 
For  a  prize  to  Plymouth  Sound? 


SELECTIONS.  8$ 

Better  run  the  ships  aground  !  " 

(Ended  Damfreville  his  speech). 

"  Not  a  minute  more  to  wait ! 

Let  the  Captains  all  and  each 

Shove  ashore,  then  blow  up,  burn  the   vessels   on 

the  beach  ! 
France  must  undergo  her  fate. 

5. 
"  Give  the  word  !  "     But  no  such  word 
Was  ever  spoke  or  heard  ; 
For  up  stood,  for  out  stepped,  for  in  struck  amid 

all  these 
— A    Captain  ?    A    Lieutenant  ?      A    mate— first, 

second,  third  ? 
No  such  man  of  mark,  and  meet 
With  his  betters  to  compete  ! 
But  a  simple  Breton  sailor  pressed  by  Tourville  for 

the  fleet, 
A  poor  coasting-pilot,  Herv6  Riel  the  Croisickese. 

6. 
And  "  What  mockery   or   malice   have   we   here?" 

cries  Herv^  Riel : 
"  Are   you  mad,  you  Malouins  ?  Are  you  cowards, 

fools,  or  rogues  ? 
Talk  to  me  of  rocks  and       oals,  me  who  took  the 

soundings,  tell 


S6  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

On  my  fingers  every  bank,    every   shallow,   every 

swell 
'Twixt  the  offing  here  and  Gr^ve  where  the  river 

disembogues  ? 
Are   you   bought  by  English  gold?  Is  it  love  the 

lying's  for? 
Morn  and  eve,  night  and  day, 
Have  I  piloted  your  bay. 
Entered    free   and   anchored    fast    at  the   foot   of 

Solidor. 
Burn  the  fleet  and  ruin  France?    That  were  worse 

than  fifty  Hogues ! 
Sirs,  they  know  I  speak  the  truth  !  Sirs,  believe  me 

there's  a  way ! 
Only  let  me  lead  the  line, 
Have  the  biggest  ship  to  steer, 
Get  this  *  Formidable  '  clear, 
Make  the  others  follow  mine. 
And  I  lead  them,  most  and  least,  by  a  passage  I 

know  well, 
Right  to  Solidor  past  Gr^ve, 
And  there  lay  them  safe  and  sound ; 
And  if  one  ship  misbehave, 
— Keel  so  much  as  grate  the  ground, 
Why,  I've  nothing  but  my  life, — here's  my  head  I  " 

cries  Herve  Riel. 


SELECTIONS.  8/ 

Not  a  minute  more  to  wait. 

"  Steer  us  in,  then,  small  and  great ! 

Take  the  helm,  lead  the  line,  save  the  squadron  !  " 

cried  its  chief. 
"  Captains,  give  the  sailor  place  !  ** 
He  is  Admiral,  in  brief. 
Still  the  north-wind,  by  God's  grace  ! 
See  the  noble  fellow's  face 
As  the  big  ship,  with  a  bound, 
Clears  the  entry  like  a  hound, 
Keeps  the  passage  as  its  inch  of  way  were  the  wide 

sea's  profound  ! 
See,  safe  thro'  shoal  and  rock. 
How  they  follow  in  a  flock, 
Not  a  ship  that  misbehaves,  not  a  keel  that  grates 

the  ground. 
Not  a  spar  that  comes  to  grief ! 
The  peril,  see,  is  past. 
And  all  are  harbored  to  the  last, 
And  just  as  Herv^  Riel  hollas  "  Anchor !  "  sure  as 

fate, 
Up  the  English  come,  too  late  I 

8. 
So,  the  storm  subsides  to  calm  : 
They  see  the  green  trees  wave 
On  the  heights  o'erlooking  Gr^ve. 


88  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

Hearts  that  bled  are  stanched  with  balm. 

"  Just  our  rapture  to  enhance, 

Let  the  English  rake  the  bay, 

Gnash  their  teeth  and  glare  askance 

As  they  cannonade  away ! 

'Neath  rampired  Solidor  pleasant  riding  on  the 
Ranee  ! " 

How  hope  succeeds  despair  on  each  Captain's  coun- 
tenance ! 

Out  burst  all  with  one  accord, 

"  This  is  Paradise  for  Hell ! 

Let  France,  let  France's  King 

Thank  the  man  that  did  the  thing !  " 

What  a  shout,  and  all  one  word,  **  Herv6  Riel !  " 

As  he  stepped  in  front  once  more, 

Not  a  symptom  of  surprise 

In  the  frank  blue  Breton  eyes, 

Just  the  same  man  as  before. 

9- 

Then  said  Damfreville,  "  My  friend, 
I  must  speak  out  at  the  end. 
Though  I  find  the  speaking  hard. 
Praise  is  deeper  than  the  lips  : 
You  have  saved  the  King  his  ships, 
You  must  name  your  own  reward. 
'Faith,  our  sun  was  near  eclipse  ! 


SELECTIONS.  89 

Demand  whatever  you  will, 
France  remains  your  debtor  still. 
Ask  to  heart's  content  and  have  !  or  my  name's  not 
Damfreville." 

10. 

Then  a  beam  of  fun  outbroke 

On  the  bearded  mouth  that  spoke, 

As  the  honest  heart  laughed  through 

Those  frank  eyes  of  Breton  blue : 

"  Since  I  needs  must  say  my  say, 

Since  on  board  the  duty's  done, 

And  from  Malo  Roads  to  Croisic  Point,  what  is  it 

but  a  run  ? — 
Since  'tis  ask  and  have,  I  may — 
Since  the  others  go  ashore — 
Come  !     A  good  whole  holiday ! 
Leave  to  go  and  see  my  wife,   whom   I   call   the 

Belle  Aurore ! " 
That  he  asked  and  that  he  got, — nothing  more. 
Name  and  deed  alike  are  lost : 
Not  a  pillar  nor  a  post 

In  his  Croisic  keeps  alive  the  feat  as  it  befell  ; 
Not  a  head  in  white  and  black 
On  a  single  fishing-smack. 
In  memory  of  the  man  but  for  whom  had  gone  to 

wrack 


96  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

All  that  France  saved  from  the  fight  whence  Eng- 
land bore  the  bell. 

Go  to  Paris  :  rank  on  rank 

Search  the  heroes  flung  pell-mell 

On  the  Louvre,  face  and  flank  ! 

You  shall  look  long  enough  ere  you  come  to  Herv6 
Riel. 

So,  for  better  and  for  worse, 

Herve  Riel,  accept  my  verse  ! 

In  my  verse,  Herv^  Riel,  do  thou  once  more 

Save  the  squadron,"  honor  France  love  thy  wife  the 
Belle  Aurore ! 


CHAPTER  IX. 

SUGGESTIONS  OF  HARMONY  IN  THE  ENGLISH 
LANGUAGE. 

This  chapter  is  meant  to  be  as  little  argumentative 
as  possible  ;  and  the  suggestions  are  simply  to  help 
the  main  design  of  grouping  together  random  lines 
from  noted  poets  which  show  more  of  innate  har- 
mony than  the  pupil  may  have  hitherto  recognized. 
Thus  he  may  be  stimulated  to  further  study  in  that 
direction,  and  also  in  the  line  of  elocution. 

The  belief  that  any  one  dominant  language  is 
more  harmonious  than  another  is  a  strange  belief, 
and  it  may  arise  partly  from  a  confused  understand- 
ing of  the  terms  harmony  and  melody.  The  lan- 
guage of  a  great  people  grows  with  the  growth  of 
the  people ;  it  has  its  own  wants,  and  therefore  its 
own  idioms.  For  this  reason  translations  always 
suffer  loss,  and  the  best  translations  are  free  rather 
than  literal. 

It  is  wiser  to  confide  too  much  rather  than  too 
little  in  the  capabilities  of  our  native  accents,  for  a 
distrust  will  create  a  corresponding  neglect  of  utter- 

91 


92  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

ance.  This  is  especially  true  if  there  are  unusual 
difficulties  in  the  way.  The  Spaniard  and  the  Ital- 
ian, for  example,  inherit  a  speech  with  which  the 
vocal  organs  find  no  trouble.  The  laziest  Italian 
can  enunciate  with  ease.  He  has  but  to  open  his 
mouth  for  the  full  expression  of  the  melody.  He  is 
allowed  great  license  of  elision.  With  us  precision 
of  articulation  is  a  necessity ;  for  every  word  must 
stand  or  fall  of  itself,  and  that  notwithstanding  dif- 
ficult syllabic  arrangement,  and  intricate  word  rela- 
tionship. These  very  difficulties,  however,  may  be 
blessings  in  disguise.  They  are  like  the  difficulties 
which  beset  the  violinist  in  his  early  practice ;  but 
once  mastered,  he  plays  upon  a  royal  instrument. 
It  is  a  delusion, — the  belief  that  we  can  speak  our 
English  easily  because  we  are  born  to  it.  Indeed, 
we  are  often  captivated  with  its  harmony  as  it  comes 
from  the  lips  of  the  educated  foreigner  because,  be- 
ing a  foreigner,  he  is  compelled  to  make  an  effort. 

If  comparisons  could  be  made,  it  is  quite  suppos- 
able  that  a  language  may  be  so  full  of  sweet  vowel 
sounds  that  the  ear  would  yearn  for  contrasts. 
Hence  a  good  deal  of  that  elision  resorted  to  by  the 
Italian.  We  know  that  harshness  is  an  element  of 
harmony.  Does  not  instrumental  music  admit  of 
certain  discords  to  increase  opposite  effects  ?  In 
like  manner,  vocal  expression — language — is  height- 


SUGGESTIONS   OF  HARMONY.  93 

ened  by  a  just  combination  of  the  rugged  and  the 
smooth.  The  proportion  and  disposition  of  conso- 
nant strength  and  vowel  sweetness  cannot  be  overes- 
timated, for,  as  has  been  well  said,  in  the  philosophy 
of  tone  a  vowel  persuades  and  a  consonant  con- 
vinces. 

How  much  of  unrevealed  harmony  is  suggested 
by  the  fact  that  our  spoken  English  has  not  kept 
pace  in  improvement  with  the  written  ; — the  elocu- 
tion being  vastly  inferior  to  the  literature.  Compare 
the  great  number  of  our  distinguished  writers  with 
the  small  number  of  orators.  To  put  it  more 
pointedly,  compare  the  great  number  of  writers  with 
the  small  number  of  them  who  can  read  aloud  their 
productions  with  propriety.  How  much  of  unre- 
vealed harmony  is  suggested  by  another  fact,  that 
our  English  has  received  nothing  of  governmental 
protection,  and  very  little  of  associated.  We  have 
no  Academy,  like  that  of  France,  as  a  court  of  final 
resort.  In  regard  to  pronunciation,  of  late  years 
Walker  and  Webster  and  Worcester  and  lesser 
lights  have  offered  themselves  as  guides,  and  finally 
we  are  driven  to  the  uncertain  rules  of  polite  usage. 
Polite  usage  means  war  between  metropolitan  cen- 
tres. 

Then,  too,  while  we  were  trying  to  reconcile  our 
systems  of  spelling,  the  phonologists  appear,   and 


94  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

casting  aside  their  classic  garments,  they  tell  us  that 
we  are  all  wrong,  root  and  branch  (especially  root), 
and  that  we  must  spell  phonetically.  It  may  be 
that  we  should  ;  and  that  this  confusion  is  necessary 
for  the  music  of  the  future,  but  how  much  it  im- 
pairs the  music  of  the  present ! 

Contrast  our  position  with  that  of  the  ancient 
Greeks.  They  drew  their  inspiration  from  the  ear 
as  well  as  the  eye.  They  cultivated  tone.  Their 
legislators,  philosophers,  poets  and  citizens  were 
orators.  Their  speech  was  guarded  with  jealous 
care,  and  enriched  by  universal  exertion.  Their 
written  works  were  sure  to  undergo  the  critical  ex- 
amination of  at  least  one  sense, — the  sense  of  hear- 
ing. Surely  that  is  a  condition  favorable  to  the 
eliciting  of  the  utmost  innate  harmony. 

The  sibilant,  the  hissing  character  of  our  tongue 
is  brought  up  against  us  ;  but  good  authorities  insist 
that  the  sound  of  the  letter  S  does  not  occur  oftener 
than  in  the  Latin,  for  in  speaking  we  frequently 
soften  the  sound  to  that  of  the  letter  Z.  Take,  for 
example,  the  seventy-five  verses  of  Tennyson's 
**  Talking  Oak,"  and  that  softening  occurs,  I  believe, 
in  the  proportion  of  one  to  four  or  five. 

Look  at  any  book,  English  or  American,  erase 
from  a  random  page  every  letter  S  which  has  the 
sound  of  Z  ;  substitute  for  that  erasure  the  letter 


SUGGESTIONS   OF  HARMONY.  95 

Z,  and  you  will  find  such  page  sprinkled  with  the 
melodious  letter. 

Yet  there  is  some  ground  for  the  accusation  of 
hissing  if  we  are  careless  in  the  matter  of  enuncia- 
tion, and  dwell  too  long  on  the  sound  of  the  letter 
S.  Then,  **  the  fault,  dear  Brutus,  is  not  in  our 
stars  but  in  ourselves  that  we  are  underlings."  I 
trust  that  the  quotation  is  pat  :  and  certainly  we 
can  see  in  it  that  the  softening  occurs  in  the  words 
is,  stars,  underlings,  ourselves. 

Make  the  substitution  referred  to,  in  these  lines 
from  Tennyson's  Lotos-eaters, 

"  There  iz  sweet  muzic  here  that  softer  fallz. 
Than  petalz  from  blown  rozez  on  the  grass. 
Or  night-dewz  on  the  waterz,  between  wallz 
Of  shadowy  granite,  in  a  gleaming  pass  ; 
Muzic  that  gentlier  on  the  Spirit  liez 
Than  tired  eyelidz  upon  tired  eyez  ; 
Muzic  that  bringz   sweet  sleep   down   from   the 

blissful  skiez. 
Here  are  cool  mossez,  deep, 
And  through  the  moss  the  iviez  creep. 
And  in  the  stream  the  long  leaved  flowerz  weep, 
And  from  the  craggy  ledge  the  poppy  hangz  in 
sleep." 

The  language  lends  itself  to  another  harmony  in 


96  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

the  hissing  sound  of  the  consonant  when  Whittier 
writes, 

"  Louder,  nearer,  fierce  as  vengeance. 
Sharp  and  shrill  as  swords  at  strife. 
Came  the  wild  MacGregor's  clan-call, 
Stinging  all  the  air  to  life." 

A  better  illustration,  it  maybe,  is  Byron's 
**  And  there  was  mounting  in  hot  haste :  the  steed. 
The  mustering  squadron,  and  the  clattering  car 
Went  pouring  forward  with  impetuous  speed, 
And  swiftly  forming  in  the  ranks  of  war." 

Mark  the  alternation   of  the  hissing  sound  with 
the  melodious,  in  these  lines  from  Snow-bound 

"  Within  our  beds  awhile  we  heard 
The  wind  that  round  the  gables  roared. 
With  now  and  then  a  ruder  shock. 
Which  made  our  very  bed-steads  rock. 

We  heard  the  loosened  clapboards  tost. 
The  board-nails  snapping  in  the  frost ; 
And  on  us,  through  the  unplastered  wall. 
Felt  the  light  sifted  snowflakes  fall. 
But  sleep  stole  on,  as  sleep  will  do 
When  hearts  are  light  and  life  is  new ; 
Faint  and  more  faint  the  murmurs  grew, 
Till  in  the  summer  land  of  dreams 


SUGGESTIONS  OF  HARMONY.  97 

They  softened  to  the  sound  of  streams, 
Low  stir  of  leaves,  and  dip  of  oars, 
And  lapsing  waves  on  quiet  shores." 

If  it  so  chance  that  the  proportion  of  consonant 
strength  and  vowel  sweetness  be  well  preserved  in 
our  English,  we  may  look  for  the  frequent  adapta- 
tion of  sound  to  sense, — especially  in  poetry.  And 
if  we  can  perceive  no  effort  on  the  part  of  the  poet 
to  choose  fitting  words, — if  there  is  no  straining  for 
effect — no  obvious  desire  of  imitation — then  we 
must  admit  a  triumph  of  the  language  itself,  for  we 
find  abundant  illustrations,  as  far  back  as  the  time 
of  Chaucer.  You  may  recall  the  lines, 

"  When  the  monk  rode  out. 
Men  might  his  bridle  hear 
Jingling  in  a  whistling  wind  as  clear 
And  eke  as  loud  as  doth  the  chapel  bell." 

In  rhetorical  treatises  you  are  made  familiar  with 
poetical  selections  to  illustrate  this  adaptation  of 
sound  to  sense.  Pope,  who  was  master  of  metre, 
but  unfortunately  slave  to  it  also,  has  been  liberally 
drawn  upon  for  the  purpose.  Southey's  poem 
"  How  does  the  water  come  down  at  Lodore,"  is  a 
most  ingenious  application.  But  let  us  find,  with- 
out any  such  evident  intention,  and  without  injury 
7 


98  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

to  the  poetry,  a  just  and  delicate  appropriateness  of 
tone  and  movement, — such  as  Gray  shows  when  he 
writes, 

"  The  curfew  tolls  the  knell  of  parting  day, 
The  lowing  herd  winds  slowly  o'er  the  lea, — 
The  ploughman  homeward  plods  his  weary  way, 
And  leaves  the  world  to  darkness  and  to  me.** 

Besides  what  significance  you  may  have  noted, 
four  times  the  sound  of  the  letter  S,  in  that  verse, 
is  softened  to  the  sound  of  Z,  in  the  words  tolls, 
winds,  plods,  leaves. 

To  bring  out  some  of  the  harmony  which  belongs 
to  us,  we  can  take  a  lesson  from  Continental  Eu~ 
rope  in  the  use  of  the  noble  letter  R  ;  though  as 
far  as  my  observation  goes  the  border  tongue  of 
Scotland  affords  the  best  treatment  of  the  neglected 
letter. 

It  would  be  affectation  for  us  to  sound  it  as  the 
Italian  does  ;  but  better  that  than  not  to  sound  it 
at  all.  Better  to  say  "good  morning,"  trilling  the 
R,  than  to  speak  the  latter  word  as  if  it  were  spelled 
mawning.  Mr.  Grant  White  expressed  a  belief  that 
we  were  threatened  with  the  entire  loss  of  a  most 
valuable  sound. 

For  an  illustration  of  its  beauty,  especially  when 


SUGGESTIONS   OF  HARMONY.  99 

joined  to  that  of  the  liquid  L,  read  these  lines  of 
Tennyson ;  but  be  sure  that  you  have  previously 
acquired  complete  control  of  the  trill  (no  easy  mat- 
ter) so  as  to  avoid  extremes. 

"  Her  song  the  lint-white  swelleth, 
The  clear-voiced  mavis  dwelleth, 
The  fledging  throstle  lispeth, 
The  slumbrous  wave  outwelleth, 
The  babbling  runnel  crispeth, 
The  hollow  grot  replieth 
Where  Claribel  low  lieth.'* 

It  is  a  thoroughly  English  peal  that  Tennyson 
rings  to  welcome  the  arrival  of  Godiva. 

**  And  all  at  once 
With  twelve  great  shocks  of  sound,  the  shameless 

noon 
Was  clashed  and   hammered    from    a    hundred 

towers." 

There  are  actually  twelve  coinciaent  beats  in  the 
lines. 

We  know  that  sound  can  be  absolutely  imitative 
of  sound  alone  ;  but  the  sounding  of  certain  combi- 
nations of  letters  and  syllables  and  words  may, 
through  the  power  of  association  of  ideas,  bring 
about  mental  conditions  similar  to  those  which  the 


100  ELOCUTIONARY   HINTS. 

absolute  imitation  would  arouse.  When  Pope's 
translation  of  the  Iliad  exhibits  such  a  verse  as  con- 
cludes with, 

*'  Deep  echoing  groan  the  thickets  brown, 
Then,  rustling,  crackling,  crashing,  thunder  down,** 

the  imitation  is  brought  home  to  the  ear  itself ;  it  is 
plainly  sought  by  the  poet — but  in  these  lines  of 
Carlyle,  describing  the  earth,  there  is  an  effect  pro- 
duced analogous  to  that  made  by  the  close  imita- 
tion but  far  more  delicate  and  poetical. 

*'  This  green,  flowery,  rock-built  earth, 
Its  rivers,  mountains,  many-sounding  seas.** 

What  fine  imitation,  aided  so  much  by  the  allitera- 
tion of  the  letter  R,  is  found  in  Longfellow's  lines, 

"  On  helm  and  harness  rings  the  Saxon  hammer, 
Through  Cimbric  forest  roars  the  Norseman's  song, 
And  loud,  amid  the  universal  clamor. 
O'er  distant  deserts  sounds  the  Tartar  gong, 
The  bursting  shell,  the  gateway  wrenched  asunaer, 
The  rattling  musketry,  the  clashing  blade  ; 
And  ever  and  anon,  in  tones  of  thunder 
The  diapason  of  the  cannonade." 

How  forcible  the  CONTRAST  of  tone,  as  exhibited 
in  a  line  of  Keats  with  one  of  Tennyson : 


SUGGESTIONS  OF  HARMONY.  lOI 

"  The  silver  snarling  trumpets  'gan  to  chide." 
"  The  horns  of  Elf-land  faintly  blowing." 

How  felicitous  the  movement  in  Tennyson's  Morte 
D'Arthur, 

**  Then  quickly  rose  Sir  Bedevere  and  ran, 
And,  leaping  down  the  ridges  lightly  plunged 
Among  the  bulrush-beds,  and  clutched  the  sword, 
And  strongly  wheeled  and  threw  it." 

So  in  every  verse  of  Browning's  "  How  they 
brought  the  good  news,"  and  especially  in  the  line, 
rivalling  the  famous  one  of  Virgil,  "  Nor  galloped  less 
steadily  Roland  a  whit." 

There  must  be  wide  scope  in  a  language  used  ef- 
fectively by  dramatic  Browning  and  by  that  dainty 
lyrical  writer,  the  author  of  "Vignettes  in  Rhyme." 
As  in  the  Eastern  story,  there  is  room  for  the  battle- 
ax  and  the  scimetar. 

Alliteration  may  be  a  power  in  the  hands  of  the 
poet,  for  in  all  music  a  succession  of  agreeable 
sounds  is  of  itself  a  pleasing  feature ;  and  this  truth 
has  been  recognized  and  utilized  from  Anglo-Saxon 
times.  That  agreeableness  is  not  of  necessity  musi- 
cal :  it  may  be  only  an  accordance  with  the  subject. 
This,  possibly,  is  what  Hazlitt  discovered  when  he 
remarked  that  the  repetition  of  the  letter  M 
heightens  the  effect  in  the  line, 


102  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

"  Ambition,  madame,  is  a  great  man's  madness." 
There  seems  to  me  a  peculiar  force  in  the  repeti- 
tion of  the  letter  F  in  the  witches  incantation, 

"  Fair  is  foul,  and  foul  is  fair, 
Hover  through  the  fog  and  filthy  air ;  '* 

and  so  of  the  letter  P  in 

**  Poor  naked  wretches 
That  bide  the  pelting  of  the  pitiless  storm  ;  " 

of  the  letter  B,  when  Mrs.  Browning  writes, 

**  Where  the  Sun  with  a  golden  mouth  can  blow 
Blue  bubbles  of  grapes  down  a  vineyard  row  ;  '* 

of  the  letter  T  in  Poe's 

**  Tinkled  on  the  tufted  floor.'* 

Other  illustrations  will  be  readily  suggested  to  the 
reader.  Leigh  Hunt  points  out  the  beauty  of  allit- 
eration in  this  verse  of  Shelley's  Sky-lark. 

**  Like  a  glow-worm  golden 

In  a  dell  of  dew, 

Scattering  unbeholden 

Its  aerial  hue 

Among  the  flowers  and  grass  which  screen  it  from 
the  view. " 

As  this  feature  of  alliteration  should  appear  spon- 
taneous, when  used  by  the  poet,  evidently  the  sub- 


SUGGESTIONS  OF  HARMONY.  IO3 

ject  comes  within  the  domain  of  taste.     A  mere  sus- 
picion of  artificiality  destroys  the  beauty. 

Rhetoricians  have  confined  themselves  mostly 
to  palpable  examples  to  illustrate  the  adaptation  of 
sound  to  sense ;  but  let  us  go  to  such  critics  as 
Lamb  and  Hazlitt  and  Hunt  for  a  more  delicate 
appreciation.  These  writers  were  fond  of  a  past 
when  the  poet  had  full  faith  in  his  native  accents 
and  believed  that  a  love  for  the  language  was  its 
very  life-blood  ;  such  a  feeling  as  Shakespeare  de- 
scribes when  he  makes  the  banished  Norfolk  say, 

**  The  language  I  have  learned  these   forty  years, 

My  native  English  I  must  needs  forego." 

Read  Leigh  Hunt's  **  Imagination  and  Fancy," — a 

book  of  "  infinite  riches  in  a  little  room  ;  " — among 

other  bits  of  melody,  he  points  out  from  Marlowe, 

"  Mine  argosies  from  Alexandria,    - 
Loaden  with  spice  and  silks,  now  under  sail, 
Are  smoothly  gliding  down  by  Candy  shore 
To  Malta,  through  our  Mediterranean  sea." 
There  is  no  shipwreck  on  that  voyage  ! 
Hunt  calls  our  attention  to  this  exquisite  stanza 
of  Spenser, 

"  The  joyous  birds,  shrouded  in  cheerful  shade, 
Their  notes  unto  the  voice  attempered  sweet : 
Th'  angelical,  soft,  trembling  voices  made 


104  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

To  instruments  divine  respondence  meet ; 
The  silver  sounding  instruments  did  meet 
With  the  base  murmur  of  the  water's  fall ; 
The  water's  fall,  with  difference  discreet, 
Now  soft,  now  loud,  unto  the  wind  did  call ; 
The  gentle  warbling  wind  low  answered  to  all." 

A  pastoral  symphony,  this,  before  the  age  of  Bee- 
thoven. Shakespeare  abounds  in  passages  where  the 
entire  movement  sympathizes  with  the  situation. 
Contrast  the  notes  of  Lorenzo  and  Jessica,  when 
the  moonlight  sleeps  upon  the  bank,  with  those  of 
Lear  and  Prospero.  Observe  the  consonantal  alliter- 
ation, the  piling  up  of  consonants,  as  it  were,  when 
Prospero  speaks, 
**  The  cloud-capp'd  towers,  the  gorgeous  palaces, 

The  solemn  temples,  the  great  globe  itself  "  ; — 
So,  too,  when  Lear  invokes  the  elements.     Do  we 
not  hear  this  brook  as  well  as  see  it  ? 
**  Under  an  oak  whose  antique  root  peeps  out 

Upon  the  brook  which  brawls  along  this  wood  ;  ** 
and,  in  another  scene  of  As  You  Like  It,  analyze 
the  music  of  these  lines,  especially  noting  the  move- 
ment. 

"  Under  an  oak,  whose  boughs  were  moss'd  with 
age, 

And  high  top  bald  with  dry  antiquity, 


SUGGESTIONS  OF  HARMONY.  105 

A  wretched  ragged  man,  o'ergrown  with  hair, 
Lay  sleeping  on  his  back  :  about  his  neck 
A  green  and  gilded  snake  had  wreathed  itself, 
Who  with  her  head,  nimble  in  threats,  approach'd 
The  opening  of  his  mouth  ;  but  suddenly- 
Seeing  Orlando,  it  unlinked  itself. 
And  with  indented  glides  did  slip  away 
Into  a  bush :  *'     *         *         *         *         *         * 
Possibly  these  Shakespearian  words  might  have 
been    more    melodiously   expressed    in    a   foreign 
tongue ; — there  is  no  argument  in  the  matter.     We 
are  at  liberty  to  deplore  the  birth  of  the  poet  upon 
English  soil,  but  let  me  quote  a  certain  opinion  of 
the   late    George    P.    Marsh  intimating  that   there 
must  be  a  suitable  instrument  for  a  competent  per- 
former.    He    said,   **  The   existence    of   the  whole 
copious  English  vocabulary  was  necessary  in  order 
that  Shakespeare's  marvellous  gift  of  selection  might 
have  room  for  exercise."     The  Saxon  Shakespeare 
we  are  familiar  with,  but  here  is  a  hint,  as  well,  of 
the   Latin   Shakespeare.     "  Small   Latin    and   less 
Greek  "  must  not  be  taken  too  literally. 

In  such  a  play  as  Hamlet,  for  example,  the  facil- 
ity with  which  the  dramatist  alternates  prose  and 
poetry  is  most  suggestive  of  the  scope  of  the  lan- 
guage as  well  as  of  his  genius.     Some  of  that  prose 


I06  ELOCUTIONARY   HINTS. 

is  of  sucli  exalted  strain  that  we  can  hardly  draw 
the  line  between  it  and  elaborate  poetic  form. 

Consider  the  blank  verse  of  Milton  ;  and  find  him 
also  a  framer  of  majestic  prose,  then  of  the  sonnet 
{"  in  whose  hand  the  thing  became  a  trumpet  "),  then 
of  the  sweetness  of  L'AUegro,  then  of  the  contrast- 
ing sweetness  of  II  Penseroso.  Study  that  Ode  to 
the  Passions  in  which  the  poet  Collins  portrays  first 
Fear,  with  an  accordant  sympathy  of  the  verse, 
Anger,  with  still  another,  Despair  and  Hope,  Pity, 
Jealousy,  Revenge,  Melancholy,  Joy ;  each  with  a 
different  movement,  and  all  without  disturbance  of 
the  poetry.  Note  that  Sir  Walter  Scott  is  the  poet 
and  the  novelist  at  will ;  that  Macaulay  passes  with 
ease  from  his  melodious  prose  to  the  strains  of  Ivry, 
and  then  to  the  Lays  of  Rome  ;  and  that  Macaulay 
and  Prescott  and  Motley  have  sounded  even  the 
dry  facts  of  history  with  rhythmical  precision.  Note 
what  scope  of  tone  there  must  be  to  allow  such  ec- 
centricity as  appears  in  Butler's  Hudibras.  See 
how  slight  the  change  in  transforming  prose  pas- 
sages from  certain  writers  (Irving,  for  example)  to 
blank  verse.  Notice  what  ability  Coleridge  dis- 
plays in  the  choice  of  Saxon  words,  and  also  what 
mastery  he  has  of  ancient  metre.  In  desultory 
transition,  listen  now  to  Poe's  "  Song  of  the  Bells," 
— every  verse  a  separate  peal,  and  each   one  clear. 


SUGGESTIONS  OF   HARMONY.  107 

resonant,  musical.  Do  not  let  your  admiration  for  a 
favorite  poet  disguise  the  fact  that  there  must  be  a 
suitable  instrument  for  a  competent  performer. 
Observe  that  our  language  presents  singular  evi- 
dence of  vitality,  and  a  MORAL  harmony,  in  its  re- 
covery from  insidious  attack.  A  score  of  poets, 
superficial  and  meretricious,  but  popular  in  their 
time,  make  no  permanent  impression,  for  Milton 
asserts  the  dignity  of  his  speech  and  art.  The  liter- 
ature of  the  court  of  Charles  II.  is  a  thing  of  the 
past.  Wycherley  and  Congreve  are  no  longer  read  ; 
but  the  plays  of  Shakespeare  are  more  and  more  in 
the  hands  of  the  people.  Dryden  has  lost  much  of 
his  hold  because  his  vigorous  English  was  often 
basely  used  ;  but  the  allegory  of  Bunyan  is  a  classic. 
Swift's  marvellous  story  is  waning  in  popularity  ; 
that  of  Defoe  suffers  no  decrease.  Sterne's  writings, 
though  clothed  in  perfect  sentence,  are  meeting  the 
fate  of  all  sentimentality ;  but  Addison's  truth  finds 
fresh  expression  in  our  own  Washington  Irving. 
Pope's  worldly  wisdom,  for  all  its  sweetness,  gives 
place  to  the  wholesomeness  of  Goldsmith.  Byron 
kindles  such  dramatic  fire  as  none  since  Shakespeare 
could  exhibit ;  but  to  dispel  the  foul  vapors  Cowper 
and  Wordsworth  appear.  By  parity  of  reasoning, 
long  after  the  sensual  productions  of  many  a  poet 
of  this  day  are  forgotten,  the  English  spec^king  race 


I08  ELOCUTIONARY   PIINTS. 

will  seek  enjoyment  in  the  strains  of  Tennyson  and 
Longfellow. 

The  subject  of  this  chapter  is  barely  touched. 
Certainly  no  argument  is  attempted.  A  few  poeti- 
cal extracts,  chosen  at  random,  are  offered  to  en- 
courage the  pupil  to  make  his  own  investigation  of 
the  harmony  which  exists,  and  incite  him  to  the 
study  of  its  utterance. 

A  still  higher  order  of  harmony  is  a  fit  topic  for 
the  preacher,  being  indicated  by  the  translations  of 
the  inspired  writings,  and  by  the  liturgy  of  the 
Common  Prayer  Book,  which  appeals  to  all  classes 
by  its  frequent  use  of  words  of  foreign  growth  side 
by  side  with  those  of  Saxon  origin, — "  When  we  as- 
semble and  meet  together.'* 

A  few  appropriate  verses  from  Mr.  Story*s  de- 
scriptive poem  are  submitted. 

"  Not  by  corruption  rotted, 
Nor  slowly  by  ages  degraded, 
Have  the  sharp  consonants  gone 
Crumbling  away  from  our  words  ; 
Virgin  and  clear  is  their  edge, 

Like  granite  blocks 

Chiselled  by  Egypt, 
Just  as  when  Shakespeare 
And  Milton  laid  them  in   glorious  verse." 


SUGGESTIONS   OF  HARMONY.  IO9 

Let  the  pupil,  then,  read  this  verse  with  such 
fidelity  to  the  enunciation  of  the  consonants  as  the 
sentiment  emphatically  demands,  and  as  a  perpetual 
reminder  that  it  is  the  sound  of  the  consonant 
which  is  to  be  brought  out.  The  vowel  will  take 
care  of  itself. 

**  Now  clear,  pure,  hard,  bright,  and  one  by  one  like 
to  hail-stones. 
Short  words  fall  from  the  lips  fast  as  the  first  of 

a  shower ; " 
Sharp  and  decisive  should  be  the  utterance  of  the 
short  words  if  they  are  like  to  hail-stones ;  and  if 
they  are  to  fall  from  the  lips  fast  as  the  first  of  a 
shower,  let  that  comparison  be  appropriately  rattled 
off. 

"Now   in   a  twofold  column,   Spondee,  Iamb  and 

Trochee, 
Unbroke,   firm-set,   advance,    retreat,     trampling 

along, 
Now  with  a  sprightlier  springiness,   bounding  in 

triplicate  syllables, 
<      Dance  the  elastic  Dactylics  in  musical  cadences  on  ; 
Now  their  voluminous  coil  intertangling  like  huge 

anacondas. 
Roll   overwhelmingly   onward  the  sesquipedalian 

words." 


no  ELOCUTIONARY   HINTS. 

Mr.  Story  has  reproduced  the  ancient  measures  so 
faithfully  that,  for  the  sake  of  the  description,  you 
may  partly  sacrifice  the  rhythm  for  the  display  of 
the  metre.  ''  Stalk  through  the  slow  spondee,'' 
dance  on  the  iambic  and  dactylic  feet,  invest  the 
sesquipedalian  words  with  dignity,  and  then  unite 
with  the  poet, 

**  Therefore  it  is  that  I  praise  thee,  and  never  can 
cease  from  rejoicing. 

Thinking  that  good  stout  English  is  mine  and  my 
ancestor's  tongue ; 

Give  me  its  varying  music,  the  flow  of  its  free  mod- 
ulation, 

I  will  not  covet  the  full  roll  of  the  glorious  Greek, 

Luscious  and  feeble  Italian,  Latin 

So  formal  and  stately, 

French  with  its  nasal  lisp, 

Nor  German,  inverted  and  harsh. 


Not  while  our  organ  can  speak 
With  its  many  and  wonderful  voices. 
Play  on  the  soft  flute  of  love, 
Blow  the  loud  trumpet  of  war, 
Sing  with  the  high  sesquialtro, 
Or,  drawing  its  full  diapason. 
Shake  all  the  air  with  the 
Grand  storm  of  its  pedals  and  stops. 


i  SUGGESTIONS    OF  HARMONY.  Ill 

There  is  a  branch  of  this  subject  especially  worthy 
of  examination  by  Americans. 

So  far,  merely,  as  the  use  of  words  is  concerned, 
the  English  Language  is  better  spoken  throughout 
the  length  and  breadth  of  the  United  States  than  it 
is  by  Englishmen,  for  the  most  part,  in  their  own 
country.  The  absence  of  dialects  here,  and  the 
multiplicity  of  them  there,  can  be  cited  as  evidence 
of  the  truth  of  the  assertion.  Indeed  it  maybe  said 
that  one  shire  hardly  understands  another.  And 
while  Englishmen  point  out  our  vulgarisms  and 
colloquial  errors  we  can  as  readily  retort.  Many  of 
the  so-called  Americanisms  return  to  plague  the  in- 
ventor. It  is  true  that  we  "guess"  too  often,  but 
we  do  not  "  fancy  "  so  much.  Certainly  Coleridge 
did  not  use  the  former  word  in  a  conjectural  sense 
when  he  wrote 

"  I  guess  'twas  frightful  there  to  see 
A  lady  so  richly  clad  as  she 
Beautiful  exceedingly!  " 

The  havoc  which  the  English  make  in  their  pro- 
nunciation of  proper  names  is  as  ludicrous  as  disas- 
trous. Their  best  speakers  are  frequently  guilty  of 
dropping  the  sound  of  the  letter  G  in  participial 
words  (E.  G.,  droppin) ;  their  broadening  of  the 
sound  of  the  letter  A  amounts  to  an  affectation  ;  and 


112  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

SO  does  their  abuse  of  the  circumflex,  which  often 
causes  an  interrogative  fillip,  as  it  were,  at  the  end 
of  a  declaratory  sentence.  Their  abuse  of  the  letter 
H  is  not  confined  to  the  ignorant  cockney,  although 
the  well-born  and  well-educated  Englishman  may 
use  it  correctly.  The  fault  is  to  be  perceived  in 
many  a  well-circumstanced  Briton  who  has  never 
been  within  the  sound  of  Bow-bells  :  especially  when 
he  becomes  excited.  And  although  unwarrantably 
dropping  the  sound  of  the  letter,  he  has  the  utterly 
incomprehensible  ability  to  sound  it  where  it  has  no 
rights.  For  such  a  marvellous  feat  he  almost  wins 
our  respect. 

In  regard  to  quality  of  tone,  however,  we  can 
take  a  lesson  from  the  Englishman,  who  speaks 
more  from  the  chest  (as  the  phrase  is).  His  voice 
has  a  deeper,  richer  quality  than  ours,  which  is 
pitched  upon  too  high  a  key  and  has  too  much 
nasality.  This  observation  does  not  apply  to  in- 
dividuals but  to  classes.  It  would  be  as  absurd  to 
say  that  every  Englishman's  voice  possesses  a  deep, 
rich  quality,  as  to  speak  of  every  American's  voice 
being  nasal  ;  but  the  distinction  is  so  marked  that  it 
has  a  national  significance.  Absent  yourself  for  a 
year  from  your  native  country,  and  upon  your  re- 
turn you  will  perceive  the  truth  of  this,  even  if  you 
land  in  the  metropolitan  city  of  New  York.     Emer- 


SUGGESTIONS  OF  HARMONY.  II3 

son  said,  with  more  truth  than  humor,  that  "  an 
Englishman's  elocution  is  stomachic."  It  were 
better  stomachic  than  nasal,  for  correct  utterance  is 
the  response  of  the  whole  frame, — from  the  abdom- 
inal muscles  to  those  of  the  head. 

We  may  be  partly  indebted  to  the  Puritans  of  old 
England  for  this  nasality.  Much  of  it  comes  from 
New  England,  although  the  cultured  New  Englander 
may  not  betray  it.  There  never  were  better  exem- 
plars of  purity  of  tone  than  Everett  and  Phillips. 
But  New  England  has  been  a  most  powerful  factor 
in  the  shaping  of  our  civilization  ;  — every  village  of 
the  North  and  the  West  is  permeated  with  her  in- 
fluence, and  her  physical  voice  is  not  worthy  of  the 
mental  and  moral.  Surely  this  nasality  should  be 
eliminated  to  draw  out  the  full  harmony  of  our  Eng- 
lish. The  prose  of  Hawthorne  and  the  poetry  which 
New  England  alone  has  written  call  for  the  most 
finished  utterance.  Evangeline,  The  Vision  of  Sir 
Launfal,  The  Chambered  Nautilus,  and  Snow-Bound 
(worthy  to  rank  with  The  Deserted  Village), — how 
shall  these  be  read  ? 

But  even  if  I  am  in  error  as  to  this  prevalence  of 
nasality,  it  is  plain  that  every  country  has  its  national 
tone  (whatever  that  may  be),  a  something  outside 
of  the  language  itself, — the  necessary  product  of 
close  commingling  and  universal  sympathy.     This 


114  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

applies  to  all  races.  One  individual  catches  it  from 
another.  It  is  in  the  air, — just  as  the  manifestly  in- 
correct pronunciation  may  be  widely  adopted, — just 
as  the  boorish  pronunciation  creeps  into  metropoli- 
tan society, — and  as  the  slang  word  defies  the  dic- 
tionary, triumphs  over  it,  and  becomes  a  part  of  the 
general  vocabulary.  National  sympathy  makes  na- 
tional habit. 

The  power  of  sympathy  is  shown  in  the  formation 
and  tenacious  preservation  of  patois  and  dialect 
thoughout  Europe.  It  has  been  exhibited  in  our 
Southern  States  by  curious  resemblances  of  speech 
among  the  whites  and  the  blacks.  Climatic  differ- 
ences and  other  considerations  enter  into  this  sub- 
ject of  national  tone,  but  it  is  the  power  of  sympa- 
thy, mainly,  which  makes  it  what  it  is. 

The  recognition  and  frank  acknowledgment  of 
the  fault  of  nasality  will  go  far  towaVd  the  remedy. 
Parental  example  and  influence  should  be  exerted, 
and  the  tendency  among  children  to  speak  upon  a 
high  pitch  discouraged ;  for  a  pitch  unnecessarily 
high  is  a  cause  itself  of  nasality.  In  our  Public 
School  system,  admirable  despite  its  defects,  we 
cannot  prevent  the  crowding  in  our  buildings  and 
the  formation  of  large  classes.  Here  the  youthful 
voices  are  apt  to  be  over-strained  in  a  necessary  em- 
ulation, unless  the  teachers  are  unwearied  in  their 


SUGGESTIONS   OF  HARMONY.  1 15 

efforts  to  lower  the  individual  pitch.  Explain  to  the 
children  why  this  repression  is  good.  They  will 
speedily  understand,  and  those  who  are  most  apt 
and  obedient  will  soon  create  a  general  sympathy. 
Abolish  as  much  as  possible,  all  reading  and  declaim- 
ing "in  concert,"  for  the  voices  are  thereby  unnat- 
urally strained  and  elevated  ; — the  readers  losing,  al- 
so, a  portion  of  their  individuality. 

The  Italian  system  of  vocalization,  used  by  every 
competent  singing  master,  should  be  adopted  wher- 
ever and  whenever  singing  is  taught.  This  system 
helps  to  destroy  certain  nasal  tendencies  which  are 
brought  about  by  catarrhal  diseases,  now  common 
among  us  ;  and  while  generally  promoting  physical 
health,  it  teaches  the  pupil  himself  to  recognize  the 
pure  chest  note,  and  how  to  produce  it.  Rather 
than  a  vicious  education  in  song  it  is  better  to  have 
none. 

In  venturing  to  comment  so  freely  upon  our  na- 
tional tone,  the  writer  has  not  thought  it  necessary 
to  allude  to  the  exceptional  purity  of  intonation 
which  may  characterize  individuals,  or  even  whole 
communities.  Indeed,  you  will  hear  no  sweeter 
voices  in  Italy  than  in  many  parts  of  the  Southern 
States, — voices  like  Cordelia's,  **  soft,  gentle  and  low." 
Neither  has  any  stress  been  laid  upon  the  fact  that 
individuals  and  communities,  educated  and  refined 


Il6  ELOCUTIONARY   HINTS. 

and  fully  aware  of  the  prevalence  of  the  objection- 
able tone,  are  still  so  much  under  the  bondage  of 
sympathy  as  to  share  in  the  common  fault. 


CHAPTER  X. 

COMMENCEMENT   ORATORY. 

For  more  than  a  thousand  years  the  Greeks  stud- 
ied the  art  of  utterance.  They  wrote  treatise  after 
treatise  upon  the  subject,  and  established  schools 
for  the  elucidation  of  demonstrative,  deliberative 
and  judicial  branches.  Making  every  art  and  sci- 
ence subordinate,  they  admired  no  career  so  much 
as  that  of  the  successful  orator.  In  Demosthenes 
such  an  exemplar  was  produced  as,  with  the  single 
exception  of  Cicero  (who  was  really  his  pupil),  the 
world  may  never  witness  again. 

Comparatively  speaking,  the  art  is  lost.  This  be- 
ing the  age  of  print,  the  conditions  are  changed, 
and  we  read  what  we  should  otherwise  listen  to. 
Moreover  this  age  is  not  an  artistic  one,  according 
to  the  Grecian  stand-point,  but  a  very  prosaic  one. 
It  is  crowded  with  the  results  of  practical  science, 
and  we  have  no  time  for  the  indulgence  of  oratory. 
There  is  no  time  to  listen  to  eloquent  harangues 
when  the  wires  can  flash  the  words  across  a  conti- 
nent, and  the  reader  glance  at  the  printed  abstract. 

117 


Il8  ELOCUTIONARY   HINTS. 

There  is  no  inducement  for  the  statesman  to  study 
the  art  when  the  most  important  member  of  his 
audience  is  the  stenographer  ; — supposing  that  the 
speech  is  not  already  in  type  before  it  is  spoken. 
Excepting  in  important  criminal  cases  the  pleader 
gives  place  to  the  lawyer  who  draws  up  the  plea. 
The  judge  finds  it  expedient  to  be  brief  in  his 
charge.  The  oratory  of  the  pulpit,  alone,  is  free  to 
assert  itself,  and  it  has  a  field  which  the  age  of  idol- 
atry did  not  attempt  to  explore. 

There  are  critical  periods,  however,  in  the  history 
of  modern  nations,  when  the  voice  of  the  orator, 
though  shorn  of  ancient  grace,  is  more  potent  than 
the  cold  and  unsympathizing  type  can  possibly  be. 
In  every  democratic  struggle  this  has  been  exempli- 
fied. It  will  be  an  evil  day  for  our  own  republic 
when  the  communistic  disturber  of  the  peace  meets 
with  no  eloquent  denial  of  his  doctrines  from  the 
lips  of  the  patriot.  The  vocation  of  the  orator  will 
never  be  absolutely  taken  away. 

Thoughts  of  this  nature  may  enter  largely  into 
the  minds  of  those  youthful  students  who  are  sum- 
moned to  the  commencement  platform,  and  encour- 
age their  laudable  though  almost  untutored  efforts 
to  speak  in  public. 

Let  us  imagine  a  collegiate  exhibition  of  the  kind 
that  is  annually  offered  by  one  of  those  institutions 


COMMENCEMENT  ORATORY.  II9 

in  which  no  previous  training  of  the  voice  has  been 
exacted.  The  background  of  the  platform  is  filled 
with  members  of  the  Faculty ;  in  advance  of  them 
are  seated  the  would-be  speakers,  and  in  front  an 
eager  audience  crowds  the  enormous  space. 

Taking  one  of  the  orators  as  our  hero,  we  will  en- 
deavor to  realize  his  experience.  Why  should  he 
have  any  distrust  ?  His  lungs  are  in  splendid  con- 
dition. They  have  been  tested  in  the  gymnasium 
and  on  the  campus ;  his  declamation  has  been  ad- 
mired in  various  Literary  circles.  He  has  been  wise 
enough  to  choose  a  subject  appropriate  to  himself, 
knowing  that  this  form  of  sincerity  will  go  far 
towards  ingratiating  him  with  a  number.  Not  hav- 
ing won  laurels  in  any  special  study,  but  being  a 
hero  in  out-of-door  sports,  his  essay  is  a  comparison 
between  ancient  and  modern  athletes,  and  he  will 
touch  lightly  upon  moral  deductions. 

While  the  President  of  the  day  is  delivering  the 
opening  remarks,  our  hero,  roused  from  a  self-satis- 
fied condition  of  mind,  becomes  painfully  distrust- 
ful. He  is  aware  of  certain  deficiencies ;  that 
although  the  text  of  Demosthenes  and  Cicero  is 
familiar,  not  a  single  method  of  the  orator  has  been 
explained,  in  the  four  years'  course  of  study.  The 
curriculum  is  so  full,  and  specialists  in  every  branch 
have  monopolized  the  time  so  effectually  that  all 


120  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

preparation  of  this  sort  has  been  neglected.  No 
one,  of  tried  experience,  has  whispered  the  secret  of 
speaking  in  that  vast  building  so  that  the  voice  will 
penetrate  to  the  farthest  recesses.  No  one  has  told 
him  how  to  take  and  keep  his  breath,  and  thus  to 
avoid  exhaustion.  No  one  has  explained  that,  as 
gesture  is  the  emphasis  of  the  body,  meaningless 
gestures  are  worse  than  none.  So  far  from  the 
graces  of  elocution  being  under  his  control,  the  very- 
necessities  of  the  case  are  wanting.  A  momentary 
feeling  of  indignation  is  aroused  by  a  suspicion  that 
he  is  to  be  lead  unexpectedly  to  a  sacrifice,  and  this 
gives  him  reviving  courage  for  the  undertaking. 
But  it  is  too  late.  One  more  unnecessary  failure  is 
added  to  the  list  of  commencement  orations. 

A  very  few  timely  suggestions  might  have  saved 
our  hero  from  such  a  fate,  and  without  the  necessity 
of  a  protracted  elocutionary  course.  Indeed  the 
whole  tenor  of  this  little  book  is  to  show  that  the 
pupil  must  depend  upon  himself,  mainly,  for  instruc- 
tion. Only  a  few  primary  rules  can  be  safely  im- 
parted. To  students  who  have  been  thus  neglected 
let  me  suggest  that,  if  your  articulation  is  indistinct 
because  you  have  never  been  properly  trained,  you 
choose  for  a  few  months*  daily  practice  the  reading 
aloud  to  yourself  of  some  of  your  favorite  poems;  and 
as  the  difficulties  are  surmounted  read  them  faster 


COMMENCEMENT  ORATORY.  121 

and  faster.  This  will  not  be  as  tedious  as  confining 
yourself  to  the  utterance  of  meaningless  phrases  in 
text-books.  I  strongly  recommend  Southey's  poem 
"  How  does  the  water  come  down  at  Lodore  "  for 
such  an  exercise.  In  this  poem  the  conjunction 
"and  "  and  the  participial  ending  "  ing  "  are  pro- 
fusely introduced.  See  to  it  that  the  final  letters 
d  and  g  are  distinctly  rendered,  at  first  by  a  neces- 
sarily slow  delivery,  and  then  by  an  increasingly 
rapid  one.  Take  extracts  from  such  prose  writings 
and  orations  as  suit  your  individual  taste,  and  treat 
them  in  the  same  manner.  Do  not  try  to  memorize 
them,  for  it  will  tend  to  divert  your  mind  from  the 
necessity  of  overcoming  every  difficulty  in  the  way 
of  articulation ; — such  being  the  present  object  of 
your  study. 

For  at  least  a  month  before  the  commencement 
ordeal  practice  your  oration  occasionally  in  the  hall 
where  it  is  to  be  delivered  ;  and  do  this  in  the  pres- 
ence of  a  friendly  critic  who  will  listen  to  you  from 
various  parts  of  the  hall.  At  the  same  time  you 
will  be  getting  familiar  with  such  surroundings,  and 
feeling  at  home  on  the  platform  ;  so  that  during 
the  eventful  occasion  you  will  not  cling  desperately 
to  the  reading-desk,  but  assert  your  independence 
by  occasionally  taking  a  few  steps  from  one  side  to 
the  other,  or  at  least  glancing  in  various  directions, 


122  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

and  thus  eliciting  the  attention  of  auditors  who  are 
not  directly  before  you,  but  who  may  be  presumed 
to  have  an  interest  in  the  proceedings.  It  is  a  com- 
mon error  to  talk  only  to  those  in  front. 

As  the  words  must  be  intelligible  to  all,  bear  in 
mind  that,  unless  your  articulation  is  unusually  dis- 
tinct, and  your  voice  unusually  clear,  a  certain  mod- 
eration of  time  is  necessary,  so  that  the  sound  of 
one  syllable  may  not  be  confused  with  the  sound  of 
another,  as  they  travel  together  and  to  the  uttermost 
parts  of  the  hall. 

Do  not  make  the  mistake  of  speaking  continually 
to  those  who  are  farthest  from  you.  This  will  tend 
to  shouting,  to  a  loss  of  the  power  of  modulating, 
and  perhaps  to  exhaustion.  Use  only  such  strength  of 
the  voice  as  will  be  necessary  for  those  who  are  seated 
about  two-thirds  of  the  distance  from  the  platform  to 
the  extreme  limit  ;  and  then  every  one  will  be  satis- 
fied. Previous  cultivation  of  the  voice  by  singing 
lessons  would  prove  valuable  in  this  emergency.  It 
is  a  scientific  fact  that  sounds  which  are  musical 
penetrate  farther  than  those  which  are  harsh. 

You  may  easily  get  out  of  breath  unless  you  have 
learned  the  secret  of  inhalation.  Upon  occasion, 
and  when  a  pause  will  permit,  close  the  lips  firmly, 
and  inhale  as  slowly  as  permissible  through  the  nos- 
trils.   This  will  inflate  the  lungs  fully,  and  it  can  be 


COMMENCEMENT  ORATORY.  1 23 

done  frequently,  at  the  close  of  sentences  especially, 
and  without  attracting  attention.  A  knowledge  of 
this  simple  rule  will  save  many  a  public  speaker  from 
hoarseness  and  exhaustion. 

Begin  your  address  as  colloquially  as  possible.  It 
takes  the  audience  into  your  confidence  ;  it  is  un- 
presuming  ;  it  invites  attention  ;  then  warm  up  to 
the  subject  matter  by  degrees,  and  save  your  chief 
oratorical  display  for  the  peroration. 

For  the  same  reason  be  sparing  of  gesture  in  the 
beginning.  Let  your  gestures  be  individual  ;  as  if 
they  belonged  to  you  and  your  temperament  ;  and 
not  as  if  they  were  joined  to  this  or  that  sentiment 
for  the  sake  of  display. 

Although  you  have  nothing  new  to  learn  in  the 
way  of  gestures, — for  they  are  thoroughly  and  grace- 
fully exhibited  on  every  play-ground, — the  effective 
transfer  of  these  gestures  can  be  brought  about  only 
by  diligent  practice. 

In  gesturing,  use  the  right  arm  in  preference  to 
the  left.  See  that  the  arm  is  well  and  freely  ex- 
tended, and  rather  by  graceful  curves  than  abruptly. 
See  that  the  fingers  are  slightly  parted,  and  not,  as 
it  were,  glued  together.  Above  all,  do  not  gesture 
to  right  and  to  left,  and,  at  the  same  time,  have 
your  eyes  directed  point  blank  at  the  audience. 
You  must  invariably  glance  at  the  object,  real  or  im- 


124  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

aginary,  that  is  thus  emphasized,  but,  at  the  same 
time,  not  absolutely  lose  sight  of  the  people  for 
whom  you  are  making  the  gesture.  It  is  a  divided 
interest.  Let  me  present  a  brief  poem,  written  by 
King,  an  old  English  poet.  You  can  practice  upon 
these  lines  most  of  the  gestures  needed  in  any  ordi- 
nary discourse. 

"SIC  VITA. 


Like  to  the  falling  of  a  star, 

Or  as  the  flights  of  eagles  are, 

Or  like  the  fresh  spring's  gaudy  hue, 

Or  silver  drops  of  morning  dew, — 

Or  like  a  wind  that  chafes  the  flood, 

Or  bubbles  which  on  water  stood  : 


E'en  such  is  man,  whose  borrowed  light 
Is  straight  called  in  and  paid  to-night. 
The  wind  blows  out, — the  bubble  dies, 
The  spring  entombed  in  autumn  lies. 
The  dew  dries  up,  the  star  is  shot, 
The  flight  is  past, — and  man  forgot.'* 

For  the  sake  of  the  lesson,  more  gestures  can  be 
introduced  than  the  poem  itself  would  properly  call 
for.  In  the  first  line  *'  Like  to  the  falling  of  a  star," 
extend  the  arm  and  hand  fully  to  the  right,  and  in 


COMMENCEMENT  ORATORY.  12$ 

the  direction  of  the  imaginary  star,  at  the  same  time 
looking  in  that  direction  ;  then  let  your  glance  fall 
upon  the  assembly,  to  signify  that  the  gesture  is 
made  for  the  benefit  of  your  hearers.  This  is  what 
I  mean  by  a  divided  interest.  The  gesture  is  to 
point  out  the  star,  and  at  the  same  time  make  it  ev- 
ident that  it  is  pointed  out  to  the  audience.  For 
the  Hne  **  Or  as  the  flights  of  eagles  are,"  it  may  be 
sufficient  simply  to  look  towards  the  left,  for  the  im- 
aginary flight,  without  using  the  arm.  In  repeating 
**  Or  like  the  fresh  spring's  gaudy  hue,"  your  gesture  is 
naturally  towards  the  ground.  So  with  the  line 
"  Or  silver  drops  of  morning  dew."  "  Or  like  a 
wind  that  chafes  the  flood,"  may  be  emphasized  by 
a  rapid  and  repellant  sweep  of  the  arm,  the  palm  of 
the  hand  being  turned  towards  the  audience. 

"  Or  bubbles  which  on  water  stood  "  also  has  a 
downward  gesture,  taste  and  practice  indicating  the 
direction. 

"  E'en  such  is  man  whose  borrowed  light "  ;  here 
is  an  opportunity  to  raise  the  dexter  finger,  as  if  to 
point  out  the  moral  to  the  listeners. 

**The  spring  entombed  in  autumn  lies  "  justifies 
an  extension  of  both  arms,  as  indicative  of  embrace. 
The  wind,  the  bubble,  the  dew,  and  the  star  are  to 
be  noted  in  this  second  verse  with  gestures  very 
slightly  changed  from  those   before  used  ;  and,  as 


126  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

you  have  already  glanced  to  the  left  for  the  imagi- 
nary flight  of  eagles,  look  in  the  same  quarter  for 
their  disappearance. 

Commit  the  verses  to  memory  :  improve  upon  the 
suggestions,  which  are  necessarily  imperfect  :  prac- 
tice these  and  similar  gestures  before  a  mirror  until 
you  can  apply  them,  through  force  of  habit,  freely, 
gracefully  and  spontaneously. 

The  manner  in  which  you  deliver  the  commence- 
ment oration  does  not  lose  its  importance  with  the 
passage  of  the  occasion.  If  you  never  have  a  pro- 
fessional career, — no  call  to  plead  for  your  fellow- 
man  in  the  halls  of  justice  or  in  the  pulpit, — no  share 
in  the  councils  of  State, — although  the  humblest 
citizen  of  the  republic,  you  can  hardly  escape  all  ac- 
tive participation  in  deliberative  assemblies.  Should 
brilliant  opportunities  be  given,  there  are  eloquent 
voices  of  the  past  urging  you  to  patriotic  efforts,  and 
to  worthier  contests  than  ever  stimulated  the  orators 
of  a  polished  but  not  a  Christian  age.  Let  the  en- 
thusiasm of  youth  be  roused  by  such  noble  senti- 
ments as  Mr.  Sumner  once  delivered. 

"  Men  have  thus  far  bowed  down  before  stocks, 
stones,  insects,  crocodiles,  golden  calves, — graven 
images,  often  of  cunning  workmanship,  wrought 
with  Phidian  skill,  of  ivory,  of  ebony,  of  marble, 
but  all  false  gods.     Let  them  worship  in  future  the 


COMMENCEMENT  ORATORY.  12/ 

true  God,  our  Father,  as  he  is  in  heaven  and  in  the 
beneficent  labors  of  his  children  on  earth.  Then 
farewell  to  the  siren  song  of  a  worldly  ambition ! 
Farewell  to  the  vain  desire  of  mere  literary  success 
or  oratorical  display !  Farewell  to  the  distempered 
longings  for  office  !  Farewell  to  the  dismal,  blood- 
red  phantom  of  martial  renown !  Fame  and  glory 
may  then  continue,  as  in  times  past,  the  reflection 
of  public  opinion ;  but  of  an  opinion  Sure  and 
steadfast,  without  change  or  fickleness,  enlightened 
by  those  two  suns  of  Christian  truth, — love  to  God 
and  love  to  man.  From  the  serene  illumination  of 
these  duties  all  the  forms  of  selfishness  shall  retreat 
like  evil  spirits  at  the  dawn  of  day.  Then  shall 
the  happiness  of  the  poor  and  lowly  and  the  educa- 
tion of  the  ignorant  have  uncounted  friends.  The 
cause  of  those  who  are  in  prison  shall  find  fresh 
voices  ;  the  majesty  of  peace  other  vindicators ; 
the  sufferings  of  the  slave  new  and  gushing  floods 
of  sympathy.  Then,  at  last,  shall  the  brotherhood 
of  man  stand  confessed  ;  ever  filling  the  souls  of  all 
with  a  more  generous  life  ;  ever  prompting  to  deeds 
of  beneficence ;  conquering  the  heathen  prejudices 
of  country,  color,  and  race  ;  guiding  the  judgment 
of  the  historian ;  animating  the  verse  of  the  poet 
and  the  eloquence  of  the  orator ;  ennobling  human 
thought   and   conduct ;  and   inspiring    those    good 


128  ELOCUTIONARY   HINTS. 

works  by  which  alone  we  may  attain  to  the  heights 
of  true  glory. 

Good  works!  Such  even  now  is  the  heavenly 
ladder  on  which  angels  are  ascending  and  descend- 
ing while  weary  humanity,  on  pillows  of  stone, 
slumbers  heavily  at  its  feet." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

SELECTION    FROM     DR.     ARNOLD'S     ''PLEA     FOR    A 
CLASSICAL    EDUCATION." 

The  pupil  will  note  that  the  marking  out  is  not 
compulsory,  but  suggestive ;  the  principle  only,  is 
obligatory. 

"Aristotle,  and  Plato,  and  Thucydides,  and 
Cicero,  are  most  untruly  called  ancient. — writers ; 
they  are  virtually  our  own  countrymen  and  con- 
temporaries.— but  have  the  advantage  which  is  enjoyed  by  in- 
telligent travellers,  that  their  observation  has  been  exercised  in  a 
field  out  of  the  reach  of  common  men  ;  and   that   having  thus 

seen  in  a  manner  with  our  eyes  what  we  cannot  see 
for  ourselves,  their  conclusions  are  such  as  bear 
upon  our  own  circumstances,  while  their  informa- 
tion has  all  the  charm  of  novelty,  and  all  the  value 
of  a  mass  of  new  and  pertinent  facts  illustrative 
of    the   great    science    of   the   nature   of    civilized 

**  Classical   instruction   should    be    sensibly   con- 
ducted,     a   classical   teacher   should   be    fully   ac- 
quainted with  modern. — history  and  modern. — liter- 
9  129 


130  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

erature  no  less  than  with  those  of  Greece  and  Rome.  What  IS 
or  perhaps  what  used  to  be  called,  a  mere  scholar  cannot  possi- 
bly communicate  to  his  pupils  the  main. — advan- 
tages of  a  classical  education,  the  knowledge  of 
the  past  is  valuable,  because  without  it  our  knowl- 
edge of  the  present. — and  of  the  future. — must  be 
scanty ;  but  if  the  knowledge  of  the  past  be  con- 
fined  wholly  to  itself,  if  instead  of  being  made  to 
bear  upon  things  around  us,  it  be  totally  isolated 
from  them,  and  so  disguised  by  vagueness  and  mis- 
apprehension as  to  appear  incapable  of  illustrating 
them,  then   indeed  it  becomes   little   better  than 

laborious  trifling. — and  they  who  declaim  against  it  may  be 
fully  forgiven." 

In  the  following  poems,  "  Before  the  Curtain  ** 
and  "  The  Forced  Recruit,"  study  the  phases  of 
the  circumflex,  and  also  the  parenthetical  condi- 
tions, which  are  suggested  by  small  type.  Take 
care  to  avoid  the  monotony  of  opening  every  verse 
in  precisely  the  same  key.  Observe  similar  caution 
at  the  close  of  the  verses.  Escape  all  tendency  to 
sing-song  by  inserting  rhetorical  pauses  (just  such 
as  you  use  in  every  day  speech),  and,  therefore 
(avoiding  the  metrical  beat,  but  observing  the 
rhythmical),  try  to  read  the  poetry  as  if  it  were 
prose,  Jt  might  be  well  for  the  pupil  to  practice 
tbjs  marking  out  with  his  own  hand  ;  experiment- 


SELECTIONS.  I31 

ing  with  poetical  selections  in  accordance  with  his 
own  intelligence. 

BEFORE  THE  CURTAIN. 

BY  AUSTIN   DOBSON. 

"  Miss  Peacock's  called."     and  who  demurs  ? 
Not  I  who  write  for  certain  ; 

if  praise  be  due,  one  sure  prefers 
that  some  such  face  as  fresh  as  hers 
should  come  before  the  curtain. 

And  yet  most  strange  to  say,  I  find 
(e'en  bards  are  sometimes  prosy) 

Her  presence  here  but  brings  to  mind 
That  undistinguished  crowd  behind 

for  whom  life's  not  so  rosy. 

The  pleased  young  premier  led  her  on, 

but  where  are  all  the  others  ? 

Where  is  that  nimble  servant  John  ? 
And  where's  the  comic  Uncle  gone? 

and  where  that  best  of  mothers  ? 

Where  is  "  Sir  Lumley  Leycester,  Bart.'*  ? 
And  where  the  crafty  Cousin  ? 

that  man  may  have  a  kindly  heart. 
And  yet  each  night  ('tis  in  the  part) 
must  poison  half  a  dozen! 


132  ELOCUTIONARY   HINTS. 

Where  is  the  cool  Detective, — he 

should  surely  be  applauded  ? 

The  Lawyer,  who  refused  the  fee? 

The  Wedding  Guests  (in  number  three) 

Why  are  they  all  defrauded  ? 

The  men  who  worked  the  cataract  ? 
The  plush-clad  carpet  lifters  ? — 
Where  is  that  countless  host,  in  fact, 
Whose  cue  is  not  to  speak,  but  act, — 

the  "supers"  and  the  shifters? 

Think  what  a  crowd  whom  none  recall, 
Unsung — unpraised, — unpitied  ; — 
Women  for  whom  no  bouquets  fall, 
And  men  whose  names  no  galleries  bawl, — 

the  Great  un-Benefit-ed  I 
ah,  Reader,  ere  you  turn  the  page, 

I  leave  you  this  for  Moral : — 

Remember  those  who  tread  Life's  stage 
With  weary  feet  and  scantest  wage, 
and  ne'er  a  leaf  for  laurel  I 

THE    FORCED    RECRUIT. 

BY  MRS.   BROWNING. 
I. 

In  the  ranks  of  the  Austrian  you  found  him. 

he  died  with  his  face  to  you  all ; 
Yet  bury  him  here  where  around  him 
You  honor  your  bravest. — that  fall. 


SELECTIONS.  1 33 


2. 


Venetian. —  fair  featured  and  slender, 
he  lies  shot  to  death  in  his  youth. 

With  a  smile  on  his  lips  over  tender 

for  any  mere  soldier's  dead  mouth. 

3. 
No  stranger,  and  yet  not  a  traitor, 

though  alien  the  cloth  on  his  breast, 

Underneath  it  how  seldom  a  greater 

Young  heart,  has  a  shot  sent  to  rest! 

By  your  enemy  tortured  and  goaded 

To  march  with  them,  stand  in  their  file, 

His  musket  (see)  never  was  loaded, 
he  facing  your  guns  with  that  smile  I 

As  orphans  yearn  on  to  their  mothers. 
He  yearned  to  your  patriot  bands ; — 

"  Let  me  die  for  our  Italy,  brothers, 
.If  not  m  your  ranks,  by  your  hands  I 

6. 

*'  Aim  straightly. —  fire  steadily  1      Spare  me 
A  ball  in  the  body  which  may 

Deliver  my  heart. —  here,  and  tear  me 
This  badg-e  of  the  Austrian  away." 


134  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

So    thought   he. —  so  died  he  this  morning. 

what  then  ?  many  others  have  died. 
Ay,  but  easy  for  men  to  die  scorning 

The  death-stroke,  who  fought  side  by  side, 

8. 
One  tricolor  floating  above  them  ; 

Struck  down  'mid  triumphant  acclaims 
Of  an  Italy  rescued  to  love  them 

And  blazon  the  brass  with  their  names. 

^  9- 

but  hei —  without  witness  or  honor, 

Mixed    shamed  in  his  country's  regard, 

With  the  tyrants  who  marched  in  upon  her 
Died  faithful  and  passive :  'twas  hard. 

lo. 
'Twas  sublime.     In  a  cruel  restriction 
Cut  off  from  the  guerdon  of  sons, 
With  most  filial  obedience,  conviction, 

his  soul  kissed  the  lips  of  her  guns  I 
II. 

That  moves  you  ?     Nay,  grudge  not  to  show  it, 
While  digging  a  grave  for  him  here  : 

The  others  who  died,  says  your  poet, 
Have  glory, —  l^'  "'"^  "^^^  ^  tear. 

Solfcrino,  1859. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

CONCLUDING  REMARKS. 

The  pupil  may  be  inclined  to  ask  whether  the 
grammatical  punctuation  and  the  rhetorical  can  be 
assimilated ;  so  that  he  need  not  be  compelled,  in 
reading  aloud,  to  follow  an  invisible  guide  and  to 
disregard  the  visible.  Apparently,  no  such  desirable 
result  is  possible ;  for  grammar  is  fixed,  cold  and 
logical,  while  rhetoric  is  warm,  often  charged  with 
passion,  and  will  not  be  circumscribed.  There  is  no 
limit,  however,  to  mental  activity;  and  the* pupil 
can  acquire  the  habit,  even  in  reading  at  sight,  of 
constantly  choosing  the  rhetorical  points,  and  of 
mentally  querying  if  the  reading  sounds  natural, — 
or  in  accordance  with  the  customs  of  colloquial  in- 
tercourse. So,  too,  he  can  form  the  habit  of  de- 
stroying the  commonest  form  of  monotony  by  ask- 
ing himself,  after  he  has  begun  a  few  consecutive 
sentences  on  the  same  pitch,  whether  it  would  not 
be  well,  if  only  for  the  sake  of  variety,  to  begin  the 
next  sentence  on  a  lowered  pitch, — and  just  as  he 
talks.     Then  he  will  see  the  propriety  of  using  the 

135 


136  ELOCUTIONARY   HINTS. 

circumflex  accent  and  discretionary  pauses  as  they 
are  employed  in  ordinary  conversation.  Lastly,  he 
will  perceive  that  the  ability  to  read  naturally  is  not 
a  careless  superficial  matter,  but  a  work  of  art ;  and 
an  art,  moreover,  which  is  perfected  only  by  the 
reader's  efforts  to  assert  his  individuality.  As  said 
before,  no  two  persons  should  be  compelled  to  read 
the  simplest  sentence  in  precisely  the  same  manner. 

It  may  be  a  useful  exercise  for  the  pupil  to  copy 
the  above  remarks,  inserting  the  fictitious  punctua- 
tion suggested  in  this  book. 

How  closely  the  reader,  book  in  hand,  or  the 
platform  reciter  can  be  permitted  to  attempt 
personation,  is  a  question  that  every  one  must 
answer  for  himself.  Certainly  every  one  should 
attempt,  however,  to  draw  the  line  between 
what  he  may  venture  upon  in  citizen's  dress, 
and  what  he  may  do  in  the  actor's  -costume,  and 
with  stage  accessories.  The  most  accomplished 
actors  and  actresses,  who  of  course  could  take  great 
liberty  with  the  imagination  of  the  audience,  have 
drawn  this  line.  Mr.  Macready,  the  scholarly  trage- 
dian, used  little  gesture  when  he  read  the  play  of 
Hamlet  from  the  desk.  The  same  discretion  is  em- 
ployed by  Mr.  Edwin  Booth  upon  like  occasions. 
Mrs.  Kemble,  an  actress  to  the  manner  born,  and 
reputed  the  best  Shakespearian  reader  of  this  cen- 


CONCLUDING   REMARKS.  1 37 

tury,  was  very  sparing  of  histrionic  demonstration 
when  she  had  the  book  before  her.  At  the  close  of 
this  treatise  I  have  endeavored  to  depict  from  mem- 
ory the  effect  which  she  produced  upon  her  hearers. 

Again: — *' M.  CoqueHn,"  says  Mr.  Brander  Mat- 
thews, in  a  recent  number  of  Scribner's  Magazine, 
"  is  not  only  the  first  comedian  of  France,  he  is  an 
unequalled  reader  and  an  incomparable  reciter.  On 
the  platform  of  a  lecture-room  or  in  a  parlor  M. 
Coquelin  never  acts,  holding  that  the  art  of  the 
reader  and  the  kindred  art  of  the  reciter  have 
wholly  different  conditions  from  the  art  of  the 
actor."  This,  be  it  observed,  is  said  of  a  distin- 
guished actor  of  a  most  finished  school  of  expres- 
sion— The  Com^die  Frangaise. 

Although  we  may  not  agree  entirely  with  the 
comedian,  it  is  certain  that  the  reader  or  reciter 
can  do  little  more  than  suggest,  whereas  the  actor 
upon  the  stage,  by  the  very  conditions,  can  perso- 
nate absolutely ;  and  he  has  the  sympathies  of  the 
audience  in  his  favor. 

So  it  seems  that  there  is  good  reason  for  a  cer- 
tain unpopularity  of  the  art  of  elocution.  We  can 
understand  why  the  auditors  grow  restless  and 
antagonistic  when  the  gentleman  in  dress-coat  and 
white  neck-tie  starts  up  suddenly  with  his  questions 
about   a  dagger;    why  the    young    lady  does   not 


138  ELOCUTIONARY   HINTS. 

enhance  the  effect  of  her  recitation  of  the  Bridge 
of  Sighs  by  letting  down  her  back-hair ;  and  why 
the  matron  who  "  searches  for  the  slain  "  upon  the 
parlor  floor,  wastes  her  energy  in  attempts  to  cap- 
ture the  imagination  of  her  hearers  and  beholders. 
It  is  hard  to  get  away  from  one's  self ;  so  hard,  in- 
deed, that  the  accomplished  actor  of  the  day  finds 
his  range  more  and  more  limited  by  his  growing 
appreciation  of  this  fact.  He  is  constrained  to 
admit  that  his  chief  success  is  in  the  delineation  of 
that  particular  character  which  comes  nearest  to 
his  own  recognized  individuality. 

The  stage  manager  of  the  day  turns  a  cold  shoul- 
der to  the  aspirant  for  fame  who  comes  to  him 
loaded  with  the  endorsements  of  an  accomplished 
elocutionist.  Why  ?  Does  he  underrate  the 
study  of  the  voice  ?  Certainly  not :  but  it  may  be 
that  he  would  prefer  such  education,  however  lim- 
ited, which  is  the  result,  mainly,  of  self  develop- 
ment, rather  than  the  teaching  which  is  apt  to  end 
in  mimicry. 

Professional  men,  of  every  sort,  have  grown  dis- 
trustful of  methods  not  founded  upon  that  princi- 
ple of  self-development.  The  divinity  student,  for 
example,  dreads  the  usual  course  of  vocal  culture, 
although  he  knows  that  simple  and  impressive 
utterance   proceeds   from    proper    training   of   the 


CONCLUDING  REMARKS.  139 

voice  for  the  pulpit ;  and  that  mechanical,  monot- 
onous, forced  and  unnatural  styles  of  preaching  are 
brought  about  by  neglect.  Not  only  is  self^culture, 
in  the  main,  practicable  for  him,  but  nothing  less 
will  ever  satisfy  the  congregations.  Better  indeed, 
uncultured  sincerity  than  borrowed  expression. 

Finally: — all  these  suggestions  may  become 
clearer  to  the  pupil  if  he  will  but  perceive  that  they 
are  drawn  from  fixed  conditions  of  Colloquial  inter- 
course ;  and  that  while  applicable,  therefore,  to  the 
art  of  reading  aloud,  they  are  equally  pertinent  to 
every  kind  of  public  speech.  Why  is  it  that  the 
elocution  of  the  stage  has  vastly  improved  within 
recent  years?  Because  the  players  have  begun  at 
last  to  heed  the  advice  of  Shakespeare.  They  have 
abolished  the  mouthing  style,  and,  taking  discretion 
for  the  tutor,  dramatic  heroes  and  heroines  speak 
like  men  and  women.  Nor  does  this  imply 
tameness,  for  the  wise  man  said,  **  be  not  too  tame, 
neither."  Does  not  the  drama  of  every-day  life  ex- 
hibit all  possible  tones  and  gestures  ? 

Prejudices  will  disappear,  difficulties  will  be  over- 
come, and  good  habits  be  formed,  when  we  accept 
as  the  true  meaning  of  the  word  elocution  that 
which  Webster  is  obliged  to  characterize  as  **  rare," 
— "  the  power  of  expression  by  words, — expression 
of  thought  by  speech."     Then  there  will  be  fewer 


I40  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

elocutionists  who  are  admirable  in  private  discourse 
but  deplorable  in  public, — artistic  in  conversation 
but  mechanical  when  they  read  from  the  book. 


A  REMINISCENCE  OF  MRS.  KEMBLE'S 
READING  OF  JULIUS  C^SAR  IN  THE 
CITY  OF  ROME. 

(Republished  from  the  Argonaut  of  March  i,  1880.) 


In  the  year  1854  I  chanced  to  be  travelling  in  It- 
aly. It  was  the  spring-time, — Holy  week  just  at 
hand, — and  Rome  had  gathered  together  the  usual 
assemblage ;  some  urged  by  piety,  as  the  devotees 
who  had  walked  barefoot  hundreds  of  miles  for  pen- 
ance, and  others  actuated  by  no  higher  motive  than 
curiosity. 

A  new  excitement  was  added  by  the  announce- 
ment that  Mrs.  Kemble  was  to  read  the  play  of  Jul- 
ius Csesar.  The  world  of  art  had  received  another 
and  a  successful  aspirant,  and  to  acknowledge  her 
claims  the  sculptor  flung  aside  his  chisel  and  the 
painter  hurried  from  his  picture. 

That  night  I  joined  the  crowd  in  the  Piazza  di 
Spagna,  anticipating  unusual  pleasure  in  hearing 
once  more  the  mistress  of  elocution,  and  in  a  read- 
ing so  appropriate  to  the  place. 

The  hall  was  singularly  unattractive.  There  was 
141 


142  ELOCUTIONARY  HINTS. 

nothing  suggestive  of  the  immediate  outer  world : 
no  pictures,  no  statuary.  But  there  was  the  repro- 
duction of  a  scene  made  familiar  to  us  in  America : 
those  naked  walls,  the  rude  platform,  the  simple 
desk,  the  volume  made  precious  by  the  touch  of 
Mrs.  Siddons,  and  the  majestic  form  of  the  last  of 
the  Kembles  ! 

She  opened  the  book  with  a  kind  of  reverence, 
and  as  the  music  came  from  her  lips,  that  strange 
and  motley  audience  soon  evinced  the  witchery  of 
her  art.  The  volatile  Frenchman  seemed  to  change 
nature  with  the  grave  Spaniard  and  the  phlegmatic 
German,  while  here  and  there  a  dark  Italian  eye 
flashed  like  a  gem,  and  muttered  bravas  gave  other 
evidence  of  appreciation.  Surely  the  Anglo-Saxon 
element  was  stirred  to  its  very  depth.  The  spirit 
of  the  great  dramatist  seemed  to  fill  the  room  as  if, 
by  right  of  Roman  and  Venetian  conquest,  it  claimed 
a  part  possession  of  the  soil  that  had  given  birth  to 
Dante. 

Here,  too,  was  an  evidence  of  the  power  of  Mrs. 
Kemble's  elocution  over  the  imagination.  We  had 
wandered  through  the  Forum  and  on  the  Capitol, 
passing  broken  column  and  ruined  arch,  and  tried  in 
vain  to  rebuild  the  past.  The  very  ruin  forbade  re- 
action of  the  "  lofty  scene."  But  as  our  ears  drew 
inspiration  from  the  great  reader,  the  centuries  rolled 


MRS.   KEMBLE'S   reading.  I43 

back.  While  the  actors  of  the  drama  appeared 
strangely  vivid  and  distinct,  we  heard  the  pathetic 
notes  of  the  soothsayer,  the  grumbling  of  Roman 
discontent,  the  whispers  of  the  lean  and  hungry 
Cassius,  the  patriotic  voice  of  Brutus; — then  the 
deep  tones  of  conspiracy,  the  warnings  of  Calphurnia, 
the  vaunts  of  Caesar,  and  his  dying  groan. 


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